The Veiled Lotus
by Crazyeight
Summary: The Fox Goddess is gone. Vanished, but her power remains, hidden throughout the land. The hunt is on, but can it be claimed? And what will befall those who lay hold of the goddess' strength? Fantasy AU, sorta-sequel to 'A Story for Suzie.'
1. Chapter 1

The Veiled Lotus

By: Crazyeight

Chapter: 01/ The Sign of the Dragon

A/N: The genesis of this story began years and years ago as far back as my childhood, but this modern telling bears very little resemblance to the original material which was little more than a Lord of the Rings rip off (being 9 years old at the time of the idea, this can hardly come as a surprise), and had, before I took it up again about two years ago, never thought I would visit it again. Some reasons for my return to the idea were inspired by a friend who insisted that I revisit old work and modernize it. Another push was with practice work with **Ruki44** that got me thinking more about my writing and the ideas I had fermenting in my mind, and further cemented by the rather surprising and positive response that the fantasy story elements in 'A Story for Suzie' received. With that in mind, I took an idea I had – a kind of 'What if the Dragon Balls from Dragon Ball Z were human?' – along with the setting of the world from 'A Story for Suzie,' and planted the idea into it. From there I began developing it.

It took two years and two notebooks for things to begin to crystalize (not helped by the burnout I suffered at the start of it all), but the success with 'A Story for Suzie' inspired me to consider posting this idea as I did before with another similar such work, 'Icon.' As I said before with that story, this isn't quite fanfiction, but it's near enough, operating in the world that Suzie and Henry created, apart from the events and lives of the Tamers in the real world, but no doubt being observed by Hypnos and its events recorded. Due to the nature of this world, it has some peculiarities with time as the events of this story take place at least two hundred years (as a minimum) after the events depicted in this world from 'A Story for Suzie,' though the world 'recycles characters' as its tale continues to unfold. How this story will play out on this site I'm still in debate over, at least in so far as appearances of canon characters go, but my primary reason for posting this here concerns criticism and feedback. I invite people to take this story apart with regards to themes, flow, plot sensibility, grammar, anything (though it should be noted that the characters will not act like the ones from the canon series). As this is a story I want to improve upon, any criticism will be welcome and appreciated as long as it's constructive. It is my hope that this story will be entertaining and, hopefully, give my readers something to enjoy while I get back to work on 'What's Left of You,' for which I apologize for lack of updates of late. I got hit by a particularly bad cold and was down for two weeks.

Until next time.

-Crazyeight

 **###**

 _Hypnos file 2108, 'Suzie's World': Another time skip. It appears that the Civil War of the Millenium – or as it is known now as 'Mille' – Empire has ended and order is steadily being restored. Focus appears to be on this region of the world as opposed to the eastern realm of Makino/Maki. Recommendation is to continue observation and to elevate alert levels to condition yellow…_

 **###**

Henry Wong rocked in the carriage as he turned the page of his book, only half listening to the conversation of two of the three women he rode with while across from him. The third, flame-haired with deep, midnight eyes, gazed thoughtfully at a tablet before her, one hand, ink-stained, rolling a multifaceted device between her fingers. Through the curtain next to the woman on his right, grey-haired, lay a vast valley of fire-red – the fall leaves of Azuma.

"Ahhh…" came the voice of the grey-haired woman – Seiko – as she drew the curtain back, peering outside. "Beautiful, and well worth the side trip. "Rika, you really _must_ see this."

"Mmm…" the fire-haired girl grunted noncommittally, causing her elder to sigh.

"Really, Rika. Your game will still be there after you've looked."

"My thoughts won't be," Rika replied, her eyes remaining fixed on her tablet.

"Don't bother, Mother," Rumiko, the third woman replied, brushing aside a golden lock before scowling at Rika's hand. "Eyes of our Father, young lady. How many times have I told you to wear your glove when you play that game?"

 _"Don't bother, Mother,"_ Rika quoted back at her absently as she closed her hand about her device. Rumiko scowled at her, and as if sensing it, Rika's eyes swung up to meet hers, their contact as sharp as a blade. Rumiko narrowed her eyes still further in response.

Henry gave a light chuckle and turned another page, long familiar with the quarreling dance between mother and daughter; one who cared about appearances while the other cared about her games.

"Rumiko…" came Seiko's disapproving tone, and the light-haired woman looked back at the matriarch before relenting.

"I expect those hands to be washed and clean _before_ we return home," she declared. "I will not have you greeting your father with hands like that."

"Yes _Mother,"_ Rika replied dully, her tone indicating that she wished for the topic to move on to something else.

 _Two weeks of travel and still no love lost between them,_ Henry observed, turning the page again. _Or gained for that matter._

"Any progress on your puzzle?" he asked Rika, looking up from his book as the carriage began to descend a slope into the sea of crimson leaves. The girl looked up at him from behind her bangs before lowering her device and pressing it down into a black ink pad in answer to his question. Raising it back to the tablet, she stamped her answer onto the sheet of paper attached to it and held it out to Henry, who promptly closed the book.

"Let us see," he said, drawing a red glove on as he took the tablet and took out his own, red ink pad. The paper was lined into grids, upon which a number of characters had been stamped within.

 _Ahhh… She's taken my word for gold coins and chained it to the word for an egg. Clever. And…insulting._

He turned an amused eye of grey up at Rika, who remained unreadable. Despite the pretense, he knew her well enough to know that excitement undoubtedly coursed through her. _Kosube_ – the War of Words – was her greatest passion, and she relished in competing with someone else's cleverness; twisting and turning words and sentences into their own, or using ones that few knew. Amongst the elite and wealthy and learned of the Mille Empire, it developed from its native homeland of Maki into quite the competitive sport, and Rika held the current title of Kosube champion.

 _Current_ title that is, for enthusiasts practiced relentlessly for a shot at the next championship, and as the saying went: One was only as good as their last victory.

"Do you surrender?" Rika asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Henry shook his head.

"This is only a small deviation," he replied, holding out his gloved hand for her stamp materials. _"Sauce for the goose,_ dear Rika. You're drawing this out again."

"And how many times have _you_ read that poetry book?"

"To my heart's content," Henry chuckled as Rika handed him the requested items.

"A most appropriate response," Rumiko said with a touch of haughtiness to her voice. "You could learn a thing or two from your fiancé."

"He's taught me what I needed," came Rika's reply as Henry considered his response to her move. "No more than that is necessary."

"My heart weeps for you, Henry," Rumiko sighed in despair. "You have been far too lenient with her. Just because she was your friend in childhood is no reason to allow her tongue to be as a whip. She will rule you."

"I didn't know you were a prophet, my lady," Henry jested with a grin. "In either case, my house could use a good whip."

Rumiko made a disgusted sound at that and threw her hands into the air, prompting Seiko to shake her head ruefully.

"Excess worrying leads to premature wrinkles, Rumiko, so mind your mirror and leave them be." Seiko smiled at the flame-haired girl. "Care to have a look now that your thoughts are no longer distracted?"

"It's just leaves, Grandma."

"Oh, but it's so much like your hair! Kissed by the gods…"

"I liked my old hair better."

Henry adjusted his seating, rolling the stamp about in his gloved palm, watching with bemusement as Seiko continued to try – and fail – to cajole her granddaughter into looking out the window and taking in the sights. A hopeless endeavor, he knew from long experience, as should the elder matriarch. About as much so as it had been with Rumiko.

 _The two of us will never have a loving marriage,_ he thought, turning his eyes over to her, meeting hers. She remained unreadable, just like always, yet he knew she would rather be anywhere right now than in a cramped carriage with her mother on a religious pilgrimage. A library or a Kosube table; _someplace_ where her thoughts could be undisturbed and focused on her interests only.

So it had been since her hair changed.

"Well?" Rika prompted, folding her arms together. "You've thought long enough."

"This isn't a match," Rumiko sighed, leaning her chin in one hand, taking in the scenery from outside. "He can take as much time as he pleases."

"But not forever," Rika frowned.

"A few minutes is _hardly_ forever…"

"Sorry," Henry coughed, cutting in before the two could begin their argument again. "I just found your eyes easy to get lost in. I'll make up for it now."

His gaze gave way before Rika's and he flipped her stamp about to the appropriate character to begin his counter, his experienced fingers finding it quickly. Pressing it into the ink pad, he continued speaking.

 _"Twinkling starlight against the midnight deeps. My heart vanishes as it leaps."_

"Your poetry is terrible," Rika replied, though Henry caught an amused curve tugging at the corners of her lips.

 _A loveless marriage perhaps, but at least we'll remain friends,_ Henry thought, smiling back.

"You have no appreciation of the arts," Rumiko continued to chime in as Henry stamped the first character before flipping the device about and returning it to the pad.

"So you say, _prophetess."_

 _"Don't_ give me such tongue, little Hell-hair! I have been _more_ than patient with you since passing you out from between my hips! I…!"

"Oh my _goodness!"_ came Seiko's sudden exclaim of surprise. _"A dragon!"_

 _That_ caught everyone's attention, and more so Rika's as her eyes went wide and she shot up to her feet, banging her head on the ceiling of the carriage.

"Owww…" she groaned, tottering a little as Rumiko began to hit the side of the door, signaling for them to stop.

"Halt! Halt! Oh for…"

 _"Mother!"_

Seiko pushed the door to the carriage open and all but tumbled out onto the dirt path. Most undignified, but Seiko paid her appearance no mind, instead hurrying over to the ledge and fell to her knees.

"My lady…" began the captain of the guard, riding up to her. "What are you…? _Gods!"_

Bringing his horse grinding to a halt, he shouted an alarm to the rest of the troupe and at once drew his sword, the steel flashing in the sunlight. Henry stepped out as Rumiko half hung back in the carriage, her eyes wide with anxiety. Following her gaze, he found the dragon that Seiko had spotted, and he cocked his head to one side, for it was a strange thing, small and colored bright blue and red. Seeing that it held them as a captive audience, it coiled and twisted and spun about, seeming to dance before the gathered crowd.

"I have a shot," said one of the guards, raising a small crossbow.

"You will do _no_ such thing!" Seiko laughed. "This is a sign of the gods, for certain!"

"It's so small…" Henry observed with a raised eyebrow. "Yet it's wingless, like the eldest of its kind."

"And… _blue,"_ Rika added, climbing out of the carriage. "I've never heard of one of their kind colored in this manner before. How…? _Why?"_

Henry found himself laughing aloud at this. Not so much the alien color on the diminutive reptile but rather at her awe. She was definitely _fascinated_ by its oddity!

 _More life than I've seen from her since setting out._

"A sign from the gods," Seiko repeated, bowing to the dragon as it spun about once more, snorting flames at them, yet keeping its eyes on the crowd all the while. The captain watched it guardedly before approaching Seiko.

"I must get you back into the carriage, my lady," he said. "The danger…"

"Whatever danger it is, hiding inside a tinder box won't change a thing. Now, please! I _must_ interpret this! Rika! Rumiko! Come here!"

"Mother…" came the quavering voice of Rumiko, still inside the carriage, seeming to be rooted inside. Rika, however, hurried on over, eager now to solve this puzzle.

"Blue… Definitely a messenger from the gods," she said confidently. "Blue has often been their sign."

"But what of the red?" Seiko asked. "The color of the west, where the sun sets… Oh!"

As they watched, the dragon, seeming to tire of the attention, twisted in midair once more and shot off. All watched it go, and upon its becoming little more than a black, distant dot on the horizon, Rumiko could be heard letting out a sigh of relief.

"Mount up!" the captain called out before turning to Seiko and Rika. "We should get moving…"

"Captain Ichigo, what lies in that direction?" Seiko asked, turning toward the man, who cocked an eyebrow at her. Henry folded his arms together, already having an idea as to where this was going. Or rather, where _they_ were going.

"I'm not familiar with this area," the captain admitted, looking down the line. "But as I recall from the maps, there's a small village around this area."

"That'd be Wayu," spoke up a young man with a long face and wolfish eyes. Henry turned, recognizing Kazu Shioda, one of the porters assigned to the procession. A companionable fellow he had found about the campfire, though he had a fairly rough attitude and some problems with discipline. "I grew up there. Like the captain said, it's not a very big village, but it's big enough. It's about ten ri or so from here." Shading his eyes, he cast a glance about over the sea of red, following it to a string of blue that broke on the far end, just at the edge of vision. "I recognize the river curve anyway, so…more like ten ri past that."

 _"Very_ helpful," Rika said, giving the youth a flat stare. The two had spoken once and, rather famously, not gotten along.

Kazu raised an eyebrow at that.

"And you know anyone _else_ who lived abouts here?" Kazu asked pointedly, obviously annoyed at her tone. Ichigo placed a hand warningly on the hilt of his sword.

"Return to your duties, porter," the man said, and Kazu shrugged nonchalantly before turning away and heading off.

"The _nerve_ of that man," Rumiko growled, now finding the courage to emerge from her shelter. She glared daggers briefly at Kazu's back before turning to Seiko.

"Mother… _Please_ tell me that you're not thinking of going to that man's backwater. We've already fallen behind schedule by detouring on this route in the first place for mere _sightseeing._ We cannot add to the delay!"

"Perhaps this is the gods' way of giving us the best place to drop Shioda off at without being cruel," Rika said, folding her arms together. "It is infinitely better than keeping him with us, and as merciful a fate as can be allowed for someone like him."

"Now, now," Henry said. "He's only rustic, not a demon."

 _"That_ changes _nothing!_ He might as well be a demon!"

Seiko rose to her feet and dusted off her skirts, a small smile on her face at her granddaughter's agitated tone.

"Well, regardless of whether or not the gods would stoop so low as to help rid you of someone you detest, I think we ought to at least head the sign and go see what lies in their village. Rumi… Your father won't mind such an extra delay as long as it's in the service of the gods. Besides, it is only ten ri?"

"That is what he said, yes," Ichigo nodded. "Past the river at any rate, so more like fifteen ri."

"Or more," Rika added, her expression a dark scowl. "I doubt he knows what a ri even _is."_

"Excess scowling leads to wrinkles, dear," Seiko said in bemusement, making her way over to the carriage. "Ichigo. Connect with Shioda-dan, as he's more familiar with the land and the village. I'd like to arrive there as soon as possible and solve this little mystery."

Rika looked at her mother's retreating back with a ghastly expression before giving herself a light shake.

 _"Dan?_ What is he, the prime minister? He's at _best_ only worth a _Su!"_

"Mind your language and your manners," Rumiko scolded, though just her expression told Henry that she was of like mind to her daughter. Unhappily, the two women moved to join the elder matriarch, with Henry following closely behind.

 **###**

The sun dipped closer toward the horizon as they made their way down into the valley, and still further the longer they went. Kazu cooperated with little trouble, and as the land became more familiar to him, the easier the navigation became, planting them on the borders of Wayu by the time the hills began to turn gold. No longer having his window dominated by the side of a cliff, Henry took in all the sights without distraction.

 _These fall colors on their own are certainly worth the detour,_ Henry thought, awed by the mingled colors of red and gold as they began to emerge from the forest. The valley in question, according to Rika, was called Hezua, holding a small reputation for its fall leaves, being the remnants of a garden from some long-ago emperor or god – of which one, the old tales weren't certain and varied from place to place.

"Overall, it is a place of little to no consequence," Rika said, rolling her stamp about in her ink-stained hand as she contemplated Henry's counter to her move. "At least when it comes to the tax collectors. I doubt Shioda's village has seen a regular tax collector in ages."

"Perhaps that is something that needs to be revisited," Rumiko grumbled, clearly irritated in indulging her mother and daughter in their investigation.

"Sounds like an invitation to a real fire here, and not the fall version," Henry pointed out. "If I may be so bold, My Lady, I would hesitate against writing tax policy based on your dislike of a lowly porter. He is, after all, just one man."

"This has nothing to do with the porter!" Rumiko sputtered in exasperation. "Henry, this is a place with untapped potential! Such an increase might invite the villagers to develop the land more. Who knows what wealth lies here!"

"I very much prefer the wealth of beauty they have here," Seiko sighed. "Honestly, Rumiko, I thought you understood the value of beauty in the world. You spent so much time fretting about your appearance as a child."

"She _still_ does," Rika snorted, stamping out two character responses before handing the tablet and stamp over to Henry. Reading them over, he raised an eyebrow.

"Switching gold to scale now? You've got dragons on your mind now?"

"I don't see why I shouldn't," Rika shrugged nonchalantly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Now hurry up and make your move, or else I'll take my win. We're almost at the village."

"Not to mention almost out of room," Henry noted, flicking his eyes down to the tablet. "You control the most territory as well. You'll have me cut off from the northern end shortly, and then I won't be able to advance."

Rika grinned noticeably at that. "The best you can do is win the south, but that won't be enough by an arrow shot."

"So it would seem," Henry nodded, rubbing at his chin thoughtfully as he contemplated the tablet. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn't see a way out of it. The _only_ way he could prevent Rika from cutting him off in the north involved a complicated, longform sentence of approximately thirteen characters. Rika's stamp, fortunately had twenty for them to work from – a fairly standard game stamp for them to use, though considered something of a handicap in a professional setting – giving them enough combinations to work from for most purposes, but _thirteen characters_ to make a coherent longform sentence?

 _If we were able to use kana it'd be a different story,_ he mused as he sweated his mind for something he could use. Unfortunately, Rika played by tournament rules. Casual usage wasn't allowed, as she didn't want to become reliant on the easier path to think around problems. And, of course, her deliberate handicapping of their game to make it all the harder…

He smiled. Of course, that was just like Rika to make things more difficult to push herself to new heights.

Raising the stamp before him, he turned it over, inspecting each of the twenty characters, hoping for some kind of inspiration. Alas, none came.

"Do you forfeit?" Rika asked, her grin growing. Henry sighed, wondering if it really was time to admit the inevitable. Rumiko made a disgusted sound, but said nothing. Henry sighed and looked back at Rika.

"I forfeit," he said. "You're just too good at this."

"Practice makes perfect," Rika beamed, taking back the tablet and tearing off the sheet of paper, taking it in with a critical eye.

"Only 75 squares," she muttered, calculating her score. "Six complex sentences in them…" She _tsked_ to herself. "I'm losing my touch."

"Or maybe he played a better game than you're used to," Seiko suggested. "I am certain he has learned a great deal from you as well over these past weeks."

"Please, My Lady," Henry laughed. "You're making me blush. But I will admit, Rika _is_ an excellent player to learn from."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere," Rika said, shaking her head. "I need to consider this and plan out a new strategy. Perhaps a more forceful beginning…"

Rika lapsed into silence and placed the results of their game in her lap, her dark eyes tracing over every character and line, replaying their moves and counters in her mind. Rika had a good memory for such things, as she was wont to with anything she felt a passion for.

 _She would make an excellent archivist or translator… Really, anything she tried her hand at, if she so chose. If she just had the desire…_

He could understand Rumiko's frustration with her daughter. The young lady, heiress to Rumiko's husband and the lord of the province of Shiju, showed little desire for statecraft, and this absence being one of the primary reasons why she and Henry were now engaged to be married, so that there would be _someone_ to help handle the business of governing. Not that Henry had much in the way of such experience himself, but he ran a highly successful business – an inheritance from his father that would likely prove beneficial – and was fine with learning from Rumiko and Seiko the ins and outs of ensuring that their little corner of the empire ran smoothly. He did well enough, he supposed, though Rumiko often reminded him that there was _one_ governance he was failing in, and that was in the handling of his soon-to-be wife.

 _Truth be told though,_ he thought, his gaze settling on Rika as she poked an ink-stained finger at her lip, her mind in _deep_ thought now, _I would rather that the two of us return to as we were, and that all I had to worry about was my business and nothing else._

Time came and went, during which the village steadily began to emerge, houses sprouting like trees in open fields before a cluster of them swept into view around the corner of a rocky hill. Small, just as Kazu and Ichigo had described, but large enough to hold at most a two hundred people, if not slightly less. Yet it appeared industrious enough with people moving about this way and that with much bustle in the streets. Smoke rose from chimneys, and there could be heard laughter in the air. Children at play by the sounds of things. Henry smiled at that. Perhaps this mystery of the dragon would be solved without too many complications.

"Make way!" Ichigo called out as they rode into the town. "Make way for the Ladies Hata and Makino!"

As expected of them, many villagers quickly ducked to the side and dropped to their knees, kneeling in obeisance, though at least one, a tall, dark-skinned man with a mess of brown hair, remained standing. A sword was girted at his side and he had a wedge-shaped mark upon the breast of his shirt. Henry lifted an eyebrow at that, recognizing the _mon_ as belonging to a clan now long gone.

 _A Mifune errant is here,_ he thought, watching as the man bowed his head politely in reverence, but bent no knee. This would be of no concern to Seiko's guards. The sword and symbol alone marked his station, and even being an errant wouldn't change that. Knights knelt to none save lords and emperors.

Still, the fact that he was errant left Henry with the feeling that the man needed to have an eye kept on him.

 _Too bad my father's sword is stowed away in a trunk,_ he mused bitterly, suddenly feeling as though he were naked.

They left the errant behind however, and Henry was able to put him out of his mind, allowing him to turn his attention to other things.

"So what's the plan?" he asked Seiko. "It's getting late, and I don't believe that there's an inn here in a village this small. We have a whole troop of guards with us after all."

"I am certain that the villagers will be _more_ than amiable to housing some of our men," Rumiko said, though it was plain in her voice that she didn't relish the idea.

"For now, we continue on as normal," Seiko replied instead to Henry's question. "But keep a sharp eye out for any further signs. I am certain that another one is bound to appear."

"And if we don't find one?"

"Then we continue on until we need to make camp," Seiko answered, though her own tone suggested she wasn't any keener than Rumiko on the notion of sharing a roof with a villager."

"Fine by me," Rumiko yawned, fanning a hand in front of her mouth. "I'd rather sit in the caravan again. At least the air would still be fresh."

Henry adjusted his seating and turned to Rika. She was still focused on the paper in front of her, ink-stained fingers working as she hastily ran them along her characters, mouthing the words in the reverse order of their flow. A smirk touched the corners of his lips and he nudged her ankle with his foot.

"It seems that you've won my heart as well as the game, my lovely little fire," he teased.

Rika jolted in place and she jerked her head up, eyes wide and cheeks rapidly blooming bright red. Quickly, she withdrew her feet from his touch, and she scowled at him.

 _"Don't_ do that!"

"Sorry," Henry chuckled apologetically, though inwardly he found his little prank worth her reaction. "What are we supposed to be looking for in terms of signs by the way?"

"I…what?" Rika blinked and then her lips formed an 'O' with her mouth, remembering their purpose for being here. "Well… The dragon is colored blue and red, so I should think… _Oof!"_

The carriage jerked suddenly, causing the four passengers to grab hold of the side to keep from falling forward. Furious, Rumiko threw the door open and stepped out.

"What is the meaning of…?" she began, only to halt, her eyes growing wide. Curious, Rika and Henry both looked outside of their end, but found nothing. The guard had halted of course, but there didn't appear to be anything that could startle the woman. On either side of the street that they could see where houses of the usual kind found in villages plus what appeared to be a bakehouse.

"Must be something on her side," Rika muttered, clambering her way down to the other door as Seiko proceeded to climb out. Before the fire-haired girl reached the other end, Seiko's eyes went wide and she gasped.

"Oh… Oh my. I didn't think it would be _literal."_

His curiosity spiked, Henry quickly followed after Rika, and at once he saw what it was that had caught Rumiko's attention and, no doubt, Captain Ichigo's. Hanging on the side of the bakehouse was a sign displaying a painted, red and blue colored dragon. He didn't even have to be close to know that's what it was. The winding, serpentine appearance coupled with the colors told him all that he needed to know.

Rumiko seethed for only a moment, her teeth grinding together before she suddenly burst forth, storming down the street in the direction of the bakehouse.

"Who… _dares?!"_ she shouted as her guards began to crowd around the sign. Captain Ichigo stepped into view, placing a waylaying hand in front of him.

"My Lady, we will investigate…"

"Investigate and _hang_ them!" she growled, and Henry stiffened at that. Looking about, he saw that a number of villagers were raising their heads, looking more than a little alarmed at this.

"Rumiko…" Seiko breathed softly, starting forward in the hopes of quelling her daughter's temper.

"This is a crime against the empire!" Rumiko continued. "The Imperial Dragon is _only_ to be displayed by representatives of the emperor and _no one_ else! Not even the guilds in his service! I want whoever's responsible for this out here _now!"_

"Already ahead of you on that," Ichigo nodded solemnly, turning toward the bakehouse as two of his men banged on the door. Kazu rounded about one of the horses, his eyes wide with alarm.

"Hey! What the seven hells is going on here? What's this I hear about _killing_ someone over a stupid pai-?"

The youth suddenly found his voice drying up at the sight of Ichigo's sword loosening in its sheath. Stumbling backward, he raised his hands just as the door to the bakehouse opened and the guards rushed in, earning them a startled and frightened scream from within.

"Hoy, hoy… This is getting pretty tall, pretty fast…"

 _"Don't_ lay a hand on that young man or even _think_ about drawing your sword!" Seiko thundered, though this was something of an overstatement. The elder matriarch, in sharp contrast to her daughter, did not shout, but her voice was raised just enough to catch everyone's attention. Ichigo turned toward her, hand still on his sword hilt. Folding her hands together, Seiko quickly composed herself.

"Now, would someone care to explain what the meaning of all this is?"

As if in answer, there came another scream from inside the bakehouse and at once one of the guards emerged, throwing a brown-haired, round-faced woman to the ground. There was another cry from within followed by the sound of repeated crashes and the woman immediately tried to rise, her eyes full of horror.

"Takehiro!" she shouted as more guards rushed inside.

"Do _not_ slay him!" Seiko shouted now, striding toward the woman. "Or _anyone_ that is inside!" Turning toward the fallen woman, she knelt down and took hold of her by the shoulders, helping her rise. "I'm sorry. I am sure this is all some misunderstanding. I…"

The guards forced a tall, lankly man with an angular face out of the bakehouse. His forehead was bleeding from a split just underneath his hairline.

"Here they are," one of the guards said. "We're checking the rest of the place for strag…"

"We've got another one!" shouted one of the men still inside. "Got you, you little rat! I… Hey! Gods teeth, I'll… Get back here, you little bastard!"

A young, brown-haired boy burst free from the bakery, holding a broom in his hands as though it were a mallet, sunset-eyes wild and darting about, taking in the situation around him. The two bakers – his mother and father Henry thought, judging from the resemblance – surrounded by armed strangers caused him to break forward at a run, raising the broom while giving a fierce battle cry.

He was tackled from behind before managing two steps from a decidedly angry-looking guard, his helm sporting a slight dent on its surface.

"Got you, you shit!" he snarled, the two of them slamming to the ground, the guard on top. "You're not getting away now!"

The boy threw himself about wildly, twisting this way and that in an attempt to throw the guard off of him. The man bore down on him, grabbing hold of a flailing arm and twisting it tight against his back, threatening to snap it. The boy screamed, pain shooting through his whole body and causing him to go rigid.

"Takato!" came the cry of Kazu, dashing under Ichigo's blade, only to be grabbed by two more of the caravan's escorts, hurling him down and pinning him. Kazu struggled against their grasp, his eyes blazing angrily.

"Damn you…" He growled before his voice grew louder. "Damn you! Damn you fuckers! Damn…!"

"Shut him up!" Rumiko stormed toward the fallen porter. "Show these villagers what it means to break the laws of the empi…!"

 _"That's enough!"_

Henry felt Rika jerk next to him, as if struck by some unseen force that lay behind Seiko's voice, and then the sky darkened visibly for but a moment before brightening again, a cloud passing in front of the sun. It all happened too quick and too fast that neither one of them had been able to follow what was going on until Seiko intervened.

All eyes fell on the Hata as she drew the baking woman up with her, where she promptly dusted her off. Once she was certain she was all right, she let her go and the baking woman immediately ran over to the man – Takehiro, Henry assumed – the two collapsing into one another's arms. Seiko's furious eyes went first over to Kazu and then to Takato.

"Release those two."

"My Lady…" began Ichigo, only to be silenced by a single glare.

"This is _not_ open to debate! _Release_ them."

Ichigo held her gaze for a moment before nodding to each of his guards in turn, letting both youths up. Kazu hurried over to Takato, who looked over at his parents, a baffled and worried expression on his face.

"Send for the doctor to see to that man's injury," Seiko said before turning to the guards surrounding them. "Which of you harmed him?"

They looked back and forth between each other, as if surprised by the question. Seiko narrowed her eyes, clearly not pleased with the lack of response.

"Very well. You who are gathered here have _all_ forfeited your pay until the one responsible comes forth."

"Mother…" began Rumiko, only for her words to grind to a halt upon Seiko's gaze.

"We are _civilized!"_ she said, her tone hard and unforgiving. "We are not some barbarians, Rumiko and we _will_ uphold that. The wife of a great lord does not dole out death for every infraction! We must first see if they are even _worthy_ of such a fate, and _you_ have not done that!" Seiko's eyes were _dark_ as she met her daughter's gaze. "Your husband will be having words with you when we return home."

 _"Mother!"_ Rumiko exploded. "That sign… It is a _state crime_ for a commoner to use the Imperial Dragon! There can only _be_ one result!"

"Let us see, first. Until then, you are to keep your mouth _shut."_

Taking a deep breath, Seiko turned and gave the two bakers an apologetic look.

"I am deeply sorry for what has transpired here," she said, bowing respectfully. "This shouldn't have happened. However, I'm afraid that I must inquire into this, now that the situation has been forced. Answer me honestly and fully so that we may get to the bottom of this, and I promise, you will see leniency from me, as a member of the House of Hata and representative of our Lord's will in these lands."

The man and woman – husband and wife it seemed, by the looks of things – glanced at each other worriedly as the troop's doctor came hurrying up now before looking back at her. Seiko looked back and forth between them, equally not liking this lack of response.

"I am of the House of Hata!" she repeated. "Our word is binding, and where we go, we carry the will and justice of the emperor! Will you take your oaths to speak the truth?"

The two looked at each other again, their eyes searching before Takehiro drew the now shaking woman close to him, his eyes firm as they met Seiko's.

"We swear," he said. Seiko nodded.

"Very well," she said, turning to one of the guards. "Fetch me my robe."

 **###**

In Mille's courts and among its enforcers, there are two kinds of robes, one black and one white. The black for those officers who deal in the protection and upholding of the law on the streets, and the white for those that sit on the bench, dispensing justice towards those brought in by the Black. Only the Black was permitted to carry swords, but both carried the _jitte,_ a steel rod with a blunted hook on the side; a symbol of the law and the emperor's will. Of the two, only the White were allowed to dispense final justice and represented the purity of the law's spirit. Not even they were above its reach.

Seiko Hata was a third-generation wearer of the White, and in the capital of Shiju accumulated quite the reputation for being just and fair to the best of her ability. Whether that meant anything out here, she couldn't say, but she was determined to render a fair judgment, if only to satiate Rumiko's anger and prevent further bloodshed. How well that would go over, she couldn't begin to guess, but this was the best they could do for now.

 _It is times like this that I am grateful I never passed the office to my daughter,_ Seiko thought as she pulled her robe on and drew out her jitte. _Shiju would be a bloodbath if she had her way._

Settling herself on a small blanket in the road, she coughed politely.

"Let us begin," she said. "You, Takehiro, Mie and Takato Matsuki, stand accused of using the Imperial Dragon as a means of advertisement for your establishment. This charge, the use of the Imperial Dragon for your own purposes, must be addressed. Explain yourselves."

"I offer my apologies, My Lady," Takehiro said, kneeling before her and bowing deeply. "Our business… Things have been a fair tight these past two winters, and we were looking for a way to catch the eye of travelers who pass through. Our son…"

"Your son?" she turned toward the youth, who stood behind the man, his mother by his side, appearing quite contrite and even afraid, his eyes never sitting still and always looking about, no doubt seeing only the wall of swords hemming them in, wondering how things would turn out if a guilty verdict were reached. Seiko pressed her lips together into one thin line. He couldn't have been much older than Rika.

Leaving him briefly, she cast her gaze over to Mie, taking in her shaking body. Her face remained as stone, but a part of her found herself thinking of her own daughter.

 _Once upon a time, I feared I had lost her._

Willing her heart to become hard, she returned her attention to Takehioro as he began to answer.

"Y-Yes," Takehiro grimaced, looking for all the world that he didn't say that, but his oath bound him. "He had come up with an idea, a _sign_ like the Shioda's, who run an inn just down the road. He felt that it might make things more enticing."

Henry, who stood over by the sign, admiring its handiwork, raised an eyebrow at that.

"It's true!" Takato exploded, breaking his silence. "It was my idea, just like my father says! Please don't punish them for…for my mistakes!"

"I have not called upon you to speak," Seiko said sternly. "But since you have done so, I call upon you now. Come forth, young man, and speak the truth."

Swallowing nervously, Takato approached her, a tremor working through his body as he did her bidding. His eyes were downcast, remaining firmly rooted at his feet. Seiko found herself immediately reminded of other children she had known in her life; how they became quiet and fearful of punishment. Takato, of course, was no child, though he appeared to be almost grown out of it. And of course, she herself, was no mere parent who would raise her voice or stripe across his skin with a paddle.

"Young man. Look at me."

The boy nervously turned his gaze up, meeting her eyes. It was obviously painful for him, as his mouth shook and his eyes struggled to maintain contact. Not for the first time did Seiko feel like an ogre about to crush a village beneath his feet.

"Tell me your name."

Takato blinked, and tilted his head to one side questioningly. She _already_ knew his name. Why did she need it again?

She gave him a small smile, asking him silently to humor her.

"T-Takato, My Lady."

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen…Fifteen summers, My Lady. I was born during the high harvest, month of the owl, by our reckoning."

"With the constellation of the harvest scythe and a golden moon in the sky, no doubt," Seiko smiled, thinking of her granddaughter, who had been born on a similar day.

"I… Yes, My Lady," Takato nodded, his eyes wide. He looked deathly pale, no doubt wondering if that would somehow be held against him.

 _Not unless being born on a day is a crime,_ Seiko thought humorously.

"So, just shy of becoming a man," she continued, to which Takato nodded numbly.

"This year," he acknowledged. Seiko heard his mother draw a sharp breath at that, seemingly giving him a silent scolding for revealing that.

"I see." She glanced at the sign Henry stood by. "And you acknowledge that the dragon is your work?"

"It is, My Lady." Takato dropped his eyes briefly before jerking them back up, afraid that even a single sign of weakness would cause the matriarch to strike at him like a serpent.

"Please, My Lady," interceded Takehiro. "He's still just a boy, even if only for a few months. I swear, he meant no…"

"You were not called upon," Seiko interrupted with a sharp glare in his direction before returning her attention to Takato, her face shifting quickly to a pleasant appearance, warm and welcoming.

"Your sign is very well done," she complimented. "How did you get the colors?"

"I…I made them." Takato shifted on one foot, scratching the back of his head. "Well…I mean, all except the blue and yellow. Those were dyes. A merchant had an accident here while he was passing through. Broke the barrels. I thought it would be a waste if he just threw out what was left, and the color looked so…" He paused, and then flushed. "I'm sorry, My Lady. I… I sometimes talk too much."

"Here, the more you talk, the better it may be for you, especially if you are honest." Seiko smiled briefly before her face became firm again. "Did you know you were breaking the law when you made that dragon?"

"I…" Takato seemed to shrink and shook his head fiercely, yet he held her attention. "No. I didn't know about that. I've seen dragons before… Well, paintings and statues of them I mean, and no one's ever said anything about them breaking the law."

"Where? From whom?"

Takato bit his lower lip, becoming hesitant.

"Takato, the more you tell me the truth, the better it will be for you," Seiko reminded, though inwardly, she knew that might not be the case. She had seen many men and women go to the hangman's noose for speaking the truth.

She felt, however, that the truth would be more this young man's ally in this case.

"I… Just…around," Takato flapped his hands uselessly. "On kites during festivals. Statues in big towns when we go to trade for supplies. The big buildings. Places like that."

Seiko eyed the youth with bemusement before leaning back, running her hands along her knees.

"I see," she said. "Well then. Consider this a lesson for you, young man. The Imperial Dragon represents generations of authority handed down to the emperor from the divine. The kites you see… The statues as well, are made in reverence to the Emperor's Order and appear where appropriate to represent that order and his will throughout the land. It is inappropriate for a commoner such as yourself to appropriate that will for themselves. Do you know what 'appropriate' means?"

"It…sounds like stealing," Takato swallowed.

"Yes," Seiko nodded, pleased by this. "And stealing from the Emperor carries a _very_ heavy penalty."

She saw Takehiro stiffen up next to him, and behind him, Mie looked to be on the verge of breaking down into tears. It was a sight she was all too familiar with.

"A heavy penalty?" Takato glanced down at his feet briefly before returning his gaze to Seiko's, and although he looked as though he were about ready to faint, he kept eye contact and managed to remain steady on his feet. "What do I have to do?"

Seiko steeled herself. "Punishment for appropriating the Emperor's Will is, under normal circumstances, punishable by death."

 _"Takato!"_ Mie cried out, collapsing to her knees and burying her face in her hands. _Now_ Takato wavered, his eyes glazing over for just a second before he jerked back to attention. Takehiro lowered his head, his teeth clenched painfully against one another, hot tears slipping free from one eye, his fingers digging into his son's shoulder.

 _"However,"_ Seiko continued over their shock, and at once Takehiro's face lifted back up, blinking with hope behind his blurred vision, "I am willing to make an allowance here. Your youth and isolation are factors to be taken into consideration. Mistaken crimes are understandable."

A deathly silence hung over the gathered crowd, stunned, it seemed, most notably with Takato and his parents. Did they hear her correctly? She wasn't going to execute anyone?

"At _least_ take his hand," she heard Rumiko mutter from off to the side, but Seiko ignored her.

"Nonetheless, punishment must be meted out, so that you may learn your lesson and engrave it upon your soul so that you don't repeat your mistake."

"If I may make a suggestion?"

Seiko looked up to see Henry approaching, and she lifted an eyebrow at him. Rumiko snorted.

"And _why_ should my mother ask for it?" she asked, folding her arms together. Seiko waved her off dismissively.

"This _is_ an unusual situation. Very well. Let's hear what you have to say."

"To begin with," Henry began, taking a step closer, "I would like to repeat what you said before about the sign being well done. It _is_ well done. Takato shows talent, and if given proper tutelage, could be made better."

"Ahhh…" A small smile grew upon the judge's mouth and she laced her fingers together. "I see what you mean."

"I…I don't understand…" Mie began, climbing to her feet and rubbing at her eyes. "You won't kill him…?"

"No," Seiko shook her head. "But I have reached a fitting punishment for him. One that will make use of his talents and not leave them to waste."

At this, Rumiko stirred, but for the moment, said nothing. Mie drew up next to her son and husband, the three of them looking no less confused than before.

"Yes," Seiko continued. "I believe his talents will best repay the Empire for his crime by serving it."

Mie stiffened in dawning realization.

"He is my _son!_ Not some…some _beast_ to be sold at the market!"

"Wait, what?" began Takato, his eyes growing wide. "I'm…I'm going to be a _slave?"_

"Indentured servant," corrected Rika. "It's either that or a hand."

She shot a look over at her mother, clearly indicating what she thought of _that_ suggestion, having overheard it, before returning her gaze over to the small family.

"Well? Which shall it be?"

Takato shuddered before taking a step forward, his father's hand falling away as Mie reached out to stop him. Her hand grabbed hold of him tightly, fingers digging into his arm, but a bit of color had returned to the youth's face.

"How long will I be gone?"

"I'll need to draw up a contract and calculate a few things, but…" Henry looked at him regretfully. "It's safe to say that it will be a while. A long while. You _won't_ be released in a year, that much is certain. Or even two."

The two held each other's gaze for a moment before Takato nodded in resignation.

"Okay… I'll do it."

"It seems judgment has been made," Seiko said, getting up from her spot and brushing herself off. "Henry," she began starting back to her carriage. "I'll leave the remainder of the details to you."

"Mother…"

"Not a word, Rumiko," Seiko interrupted, rounding a corner. "Captain Ichigo, please be so kind as to find us accommodations until the final details of this matter have been resolved."

"Mother, _listen_ to me…" Rumiko began, following after her. "What you've done… That can _hardly_ be called a _punishment!_ "

"No, _you_ listen to me, daughter." Whirling about, Seiko stabbed a finger in Rumiko's face, causing the light-haired woman to draw up short in surprise. "This is a backwater village. I have reason to doubt the people living here even _know_ about the laws of the empire."

"That's _no_ excuse! Knowing or unknowing, they broke the law! You are _always_ saying…!"

"Do _not_ lecture me about the law! My job is to cast judgement on whether or not someone's actions deserve punishment! They weren't hurting anyone! We could have overlooked this or at _most_ just given them a friendly warning!" Shaking her head, she retracted her hand and pressed it against her face. "You are the wife of a great lord, and you have muddied things up!"

"I will not apologize for this," Rumiko breathed, her nostrils flaring. "I did my duty. I have _no_ reason to be ashamed for doing so."

With that said, Rumiko whirled about and stormed off. Seiko sighed and shook her head, not for the first time wondering just where and how she went wrong with her.

She heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching from behind, and quickly composing herself, she turned to find Henry approaching, the bakehouses sign tucked under his arm.

"Ichigo wanted this destroyed," he said, drawing it out for her to see. "I thought it might be better to confiscate it instead."

Seiko took a step toward it, her eyes thoughtful. "We should ask about this dragon. It _couldn't_ have been a coincidence that such a creature with this likeness appeared when it did."

"I think we are more likely to get something out of our new acquisition than anyone else at the moment," Henry said, gesturing with his head over in the direction of the boy, who was presently with his family, the three of them, holding onto each other tightly. The woman was the most distraught, sobbing loudly into her son's shoulder as she clutched him against her. Seiko bit her lower lip at the sight, having seen it far too often in her years as a wearer of the White.

 _I had hoped that this trip would have given me a break from all of that, but fate it seems had other plans._

For her, that was the only way she could stomach breaking up their family.

"Perhaps," Seiko sighed, looking away. "I would like to add a little contribution of my own for his service."

Henry raised an eyebrow at that. "Rumiko won't like that."

"My daughter can go hang herself then," Seiko sniffed before wincing at her words.

 _"That_ was out of turn," she said, composing herself. "I am sorry."

"Don't worry," Henry chuckled. "I doubt Rika will demand your life as payment."

"If it weren't for that dragon, I would think that this whole trip was a mistake. Yet…a part of me can't help but wonder if this is some kind of cruel joke from the gods. They tend to have an unusual sense of humor."

 _"A fox lies best in bed,"_ quoted Henry in agreement. "Still, it would seem that we're benefiting a great deal from their joke."

"You mean _you_ are benefiting."

Henry grinned at that. "Well, maybe. But…" He hefted the sign indicatively. "…perhaps time will tell. And sooner than we think."

Seiko tilted her head questioningly at that. "That… Henry." She narrowed her eyes. "You…don't think what we saw _was_ a messenger from the gods."

"Time will tell," Henry repeated, starting away. "I'm just thinking for now."

"Henry, you have such _odd_ thoughts at times."

Henry laughed at that. "Odd thoughts build things, My Lady. I'm taking a gamble that this one is correct, but if not, I still win. It'll be nice to have an extra pair of hands around the workplace. Anyway, I'd better get this stowed away before I get to work on the contract."

Seiko watched him go to the caravan that lay behind the carriage before adjusting her robes, returning to her trek. Arriving quickly at the carriage, she opened it and quickly climbed in, closing the door behind her with a sharp click. Taking a deep breath to still her mind, she reflected on events, weighing them in her mind. Did she do the right thing? Was it right to leave this common _boy_ in the hands of Henry and her granddaughter?

 _Judgment has already been pronounced,_ she thought. _No turning back now._

After a moment, she reached into a compartment next to her and drew out a pad of paper, a quill and a small bottle of ink. A bit old fashioned, she knew, but she preferred the more personal touch of using her own signature rather than the stamps preferred by others belonging to the various crusts of society. Laying the pad across her lap, she inspected the quill point before opening up the bottle. Dipping the quill into the black liquid, she set it to the sheet and began to scratch out a message to Rumiko's husband, informing him of their delay, apologizing for it and that she would explain everything to him upon their arrival.

Once she finished signing off, she drew out another bottle, this one containing a fine powder. She sprinkled it on the letter, muttering words under her breath as she did so. The sheet shook slightly under her touch, and then, once the ink had dried, proceeded to fold itself up, taking the shape of a bird. Once completed, it looked up at the woman and tilted its head to one side. Seiko imagined it blinking at her, as its real-life counterparts would have done.

"Go," she said, tapping a finger on its beak. "The Lord Makino of Shiju-Iito awaits you."

The 'bird' flapped its wings with a crinkle and then shot off into the rising darkness of the night, leaving Seiko alone with her thoughts.

16


	2. Chapter 2

The Veiled Lotus

By: Crazyeight

Chapter: 02/ Two Fires

 _This can't be happening…_

Those were the first thoughts that ran through Takato's mind as he stood there, numb to almost everything that was happening around him. Only his mother's sobbing, though it sounded distant to him in his shock, anchored him, making his situation concrete in his mind. Slave… Correction, _indentured servant…_ That was his lot in life now, for however long it was meant to be. And all because he painted a sign with a dragon.

 _An idiot… That's what I am,_ he thought, starting to climb out of the hole of his shock. _A complete and utter idiot. I should have… Gods, why didn't I know about that? Da and I went to the city enough times where I should have heard about that._

His shoulders sagged. There was little to it now. Berating himself for not paying better attention wouldn't do any good, and neither would moaning about his curse. Shaking himself back to attention, he turned to his mother and gently embraced her. She clung to him tightly, her body shaking, causing tears to spring to life in his eyes. He blinked them away furiously, knowing how unseemly such things were in her eyes.

 _"Tears won't help you fix what you broke!"_ she had scolded him once. _"Now stop that crying and get on your feet!"_

"Sorry…" he murmured, his voice remaining thick with emotion all the same, taking note of a lock of grey that fell over her face as she pulled away.

 _I've never been much good for her hair,_ he thought before noticing that his mother was looking at something behind him, as was his father. Turning, he saw the fire-haired girl from the caravan approaching, her deep, dark eyes gazing at him thoughtfully, as though she were studying some unknown, fell creature from the far north. He shuddered under her attentiveness, yet he broke away from his mother to face her more fully. He tilted his head to one side, making note of a strange, black mark lying on the corner of her lower mouth.

 _A bruise? No… Something els…_

"What do _you_ want?" Mie snarled suddenly, grabbing hold of Takato's arm, her grip vicelike, causing Takato to wince as her fingers dug deep. "Come here to _gloat,_ have you? Happy that you're stealing my _son_ from me, you _huo-sut_ of a…"

 _"Mie!"_ Takehiro exclaimed in surprise and horror, interrupting her. His eyes darted about them, and Takato quickly followed suite, making a note of the guards that were quickly approaching from behind the girl, hands on the hilts of their short swords. Mie, however, didn't seem to care about them anymore than the girl took offense at her language. If anything, the insult caused the girl to tilt her head to one side in curiosity, an eyebrow raising.

"You're from the coasts?" she asked, more to herself than to Mie before peering forward, inspecting both the woman and then Takato. "Yes… I can see it now. _Sunrise eyes._ Interesting." Drawing back, she held the gaze of the little family for a moment, her expression impassive. "Well, anyway, I came to talk to _you."_

Takato blinked as the girl pointed at him in confusion, half-distracted by her statement about his _eyes,_ that it took him a moment to stammer out a reply.

"Uh… Me?" he asked, pointing at himself quizzically.

"Yes," she nodded, frowning a little in apparent agitation.

 _Terrific. I can already see that this is going to go well…_

"He _has_ a name!" Mie growled.

"Yes, Takato, I heard," Rika said impatiently, shooting the woman a sharp look before returning her attention to Takato, who was starting to become a little bit annoyed himself now. "If you need further introductions, I am Rika."

 _She treats people like this? Am I going to have to work for her? Holy bread gods, what am I getting into here?_

Still, he couldn't discount her or her guards. One wrong word, and he just very well _might_ end up losing a hand after all. She was part of the retinue of some great house, that of Hata. Though the meaning was lost to him, the context was clear enough. Seiko, the woman who judged him was important, which meant that this girl was important as well and could probably order his death and the deaths of everyone in this village if she so chose.

 _This is a nightmare…_ He found himself swallowing nervously.

"Not even out of the village and you're already ordering him about?" Mie sneered, trying to push past her husband, only for him to grab hold of her.

"Mie… _Please!_ Don't do this! _Don't_ make a scene…"

Rika frowned again at the other woman before looking back at Takato. "Perhaps we should speak in a more private setting…"

"Oh, you'd _love_ that, wouldn't you?" Mie spat at the ground near the girl's feet. "Got to drive the nails in, don't you? Your kind can't go _anywhere_ without taking _something_ and making everyone's lives misera…"

"I think that's as good an answer as any," Rika sighed, seeing that Takato's mother was insistent on making herself a nuisance to her. Grabbing hold of Takato by the sleeve of his shirt with an ink-stained hand, she tugged him in her direction, causing the boy to stumble in surprise. Mie's eyes went wide with shock.

 _"No!"_ she shouted, attempting to lunge after them, only for Takehiro to grab hold of her waist and yank her back. "Takeh…! Let me _go!_

She struggled against him, beating at him, attempting to break free, but for the moment, her storm was checked. At this, there came the sound of swords being unsheathed, and the guards came up behind Rika. The sight of their gleaming, leaf-shaped blades didn't appear to deter Mie in the least. If anything, they caused her to struggle all the more with open, naked hate toward the girl, as though she _wanted_ to attack before she could be struck down. Rika, however, merely raised her hand, causing them to waver and look at her questioningly.

"My Lady…" began one of the guards.

"Do _nothing_ to harm them,"Rika glowered, pushing past them as she half-dragged Takato after her. "But do not let them interrupt."

"Wait, wait…" Takato staggered, struggling to break free from her, but for some reason finding himself unable to do so. "Hold on! What…?"

"This is far enough." At once, she let go of him, causing the boy to flop about in midair for a moment before just barely managing to recover his balance.

"Gods, just what _is_ it with you?" he asked, his eyes shooting up at hers. She looked perplexed by his question before speaking.

"We're near enough so that they can keep you in sight. That should be enough for her worries, I should imagine…"

 _"Her_ worries?!" Takato exploded, his temper finally starting to get the better of him, causing him to forget the guards that kept an eye on him and a hand on their blades. "Lady or lord or _whoever_ you are, she's my _mother!_ Do you even know what that _means?!_ I don't care what you do to me, but she's _upset!_ She… She…" He trailed off, his expression falling as he saw that she continued to simply look at him as though she were waiting for him to finish so that they could get on to whatever she wanted to talk to him about.

"Does that even matter to you?" he asked. There was a silence, and then, after a moment, she spoke.

"Earlier today, we encountered a dragon that greatly resembled the one you painted on your sign."

"W-Wha…?" Takato's eyes blinked first once, then twice. Then a third time, completely taken aback, though whether from her complete dismissal of his question to her own, he couldn't be sure. His mind swam, and in desperation, he held on to her question, deciding that his own simply didn't matter to her enough to pursue. "A _dragon?_ You saw _that_ dragon? The one on the sign?"

"Yes," she said, nodding. "I'd like to hear about its tale and what you know of it. I have never heard of such a creature before. Those colors aren't natural for their kind." She furrowed her brow. "There _is_ a tale, isn't there?"

"No! There… Well, there _shouldn't_ be! I mean…" Takato shifted, on one foot, trying to make sense of it all. "…I just picked those colors because I thought they looked good."

Rika's face scrunched up at that, now seeming to be _her_ turn to be confused.

"Are you saying that you just _painted_ a dragon you've _never_ seen before?"

"I…guess?" Takato made a helpless gesture, not in the least bit understanding what was going on. "I don't know. I've never even _seen_ a dragon before. I was just painting one from the statues I've seen."

"I see." Rika looked down, her expression one of deep contemplation for a moment before she looked over her shoulder at Takato's parents. Mie was glaring daggers at her, _daring_ her to give her a reason to rush her, heedless of the guards that stood between them. Turning away, she reached into her sleeve and produced a long, red and white colored cloth. Loosening it, she approached Takato and proceeded to drape it about his neck.

"Ah…?" Takato began, perplexed.

"I cannot say how much longer we'll remain here," she said, tying the cloth into a knot and smoothing it out before stepping back to consider her handiwork. "I suggest that you pack what things you cannot bear to part with and be ready to move then." She paused for a moment before resuming. "I am sorry for how things are turning out for you. I would like to hope that it won't go bad for you. But just in case…a little help along the way won't hurt."

Reaching out, she took hold of the edge of the cloth and gave it a tug, drawing it out so that it fell down his chest, revealing a snow-white series of flower petals surrounded by a ring of thorns. Takato looked up at her questioningly, but she was already heading away, her guards soon following after her, sheathing their swords. Takato watched her go numbly for a moment before fingering the cloth bound about his neck, wondering why she did that and what it was supposed to mean. It struck him as being too fine for something to mark him as a slave or even an indentured servant. Especially a slave, having seen one pass through with his master at least once. A most miserable existence, with a brand scarred into the man's forehead.

 _They had a dead look in their eyes too,_ he shuddered. _Is that what I'm going to end up like? Some undead monster that only does what he's told?_

Escape. The thought of escape came on to him suddenly, breaking through the shock that had held him in chains since his sentence had been passed.

 _But…if I do…what will they do to my parents? Will they become slaves in my place to pay for my debt?_

His shoulders sagged. He couldn't do that. Not to his family. They deserved better.

 _Father always said, honor your debts…_

"Well, I'll be…" came a voice behind him. Startled, he whirled about to find the dark-skinned man from earlier – the one who needed to hammer out the conditions of his servitude – approaching him, a warm smile on his face. The kind of smile that Takato remembered seeing on many people trying to sell his father something, and vice versa.

"Ah… You'll be what?" he asked, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly, finding himself on his guard. The man pointed to his collar, indicating the red cloth tied about his neck.

"She's never done that to anyone that I've seen. Not even to me, and I'm her fiancé."

Takato looked down at it in confusion, fingering the cloth. "I don't get it. What's this supposed to mean?"

"Some kind of easterner practice," he explained, chuckling. "One of their secret languages. It's supposed to mean 'hands off' or something to that affect. I'm not very familiar with it myself, but the ladies up there love it. Definitely something to feel honored by."

"I…don't know if I can really feel that, right now," Takato admitted, to which the man smiled at him, seemingly in sympathy, though false or otherwise, Takato couldn't tell.

"I'm Henry, by the way," he said, extending a foot in front of him and placing one hand behind his back, bowing politely. "I'll be explaining to you the terms of your service to you and your parents and…ah! Here they come now."

Takato grimaced as he saw his parents approaching, no longer held back by the threat of swords – at least for the moment.

 **###**

Kazu was furious.

No, to say that he was furious was an understatement. Even the dragons reputed to rampage in the west couldn't hold a candle to the fire burning in his heart. If looks could kill, Henry would have died a thousand times over, as he glared daggers at him, unable to speak now as Ichigo had him tied and gagged to keep from causing trouble. His body trembled with rage at this, leaving him feeling as a mountain, ready to burst asunder and rain fire and fury on all around him; a roaring ocean rising up to bash against the coasts. He wanted to thrash about. He wanted to fight and free his friend; rally his fellow villagers and drive out these damnable people! He wanted to grab Henry by the throat and _squeeze_ for even suggesting that Takato be sold…

Dirt crunched as Rika appeared in front of him.

"My Lady…" warned a guard, and he looked up to see her wave him off before kneeling down before him. As ever, her expression was flat and impossible to read, but her hands reached out and took hold of the gag tied over his mouth and loosened it. Kazu took a moment to savor the taste of clean air over a dirty rag before shooting Rika a dark glare.

"What do you want, bitch?" he spat, and at once the girl frowned noticeably.

"If you keep that language up, I'll stuff your mouth up again. Do you want that, or would you rather hear what I have to ask?"

"Ask? What's there to ask?" he sneered, however he held his tongue to keep from launching into a litany of curses just to challenge her. Past experience had taught him not to overdo things when one was in an inferior position and lacking a trump card.

"You care about this Takato, correct?"

Kazu blinked. Of all the questions he could have expected, _that_ was the last one he could think of.

"He's my friend, yeah," he nodded reluctantly. "What about it?"

Rika gazed at him, her eyes revealing nothing.

"What would you do for him?"

Kazu narrowed his eyes dangerously at her and bared his teeth at her, but otherwise said nothing. Rika nodded, as though this were what she expected.

"I will pay you to keep watch over him until the end of his service," she resumed. "Two hundred ryo to start with, if you accept. You are to stay with him at all times, whether he bathes or shits. Is that clear?"

"Wha…?" Kazu could only gape at her, utterly astonished both by her unladylike language and her proposition. "Why?"

"Is that a no?"

"What? No! I mean… Yes! I mean…" He shook his head and shifted, his butt suddenly feeling numb. "I'll do it, but…for the sake of the sky, what for? Why do _you_ care?"

"Protecting my fiancé's investment isn't reason enough?" she asked. "Of course, you will have someone to watch over _you_ as well, so you don't get any ideas about leaving with him or try to put them into his head, but I believe your friend would be in _somewhat_ good hands if he had someone with his best interests in mind to keep an eye on him. And it might be good for him to have someone he knows nearby. Now, do you accept? Or do you prefer the taste of cloth better?"

A twinkle appeared in her eyes just then and Kazu resisted the urge to spit at her in disgust.

"I would have taken it without any bribe," he growled, and with a small smile, Rika rose to her feet.

"Untie him," she said to the guards. "Make sure he stays within eyesight of his friend, and don't let them be alone together. Is that understood?"

"Yes, My Lady."

As Kazu was lifted to his feet, he watched as Rika headed off, hating her, but grateful for this small opportunity she had given him. It would take time, no question, but at least this way he had a chance to help his friend.

 _Just you wait,_ he thought, his arms coming untied. _I'll make you regret this._

 **###**

Taichi adjusted the sword in his belt as he thumbed his chin, striding down the beaten, dirt paths of the village. The 'trial' of the baker boy over now, he found himself bored and with little else to keep him occupied, he wandered away, passing by the procession line of caravans. He flicked his gaze over them, his expression dull and appearing uninterested until his eyes caught that of the old woman in White seated in her carriage, a paper bird fluttering out of her window and wheeling off into the air. He idly watched it go before dropping his gaze down, and found her watching him in turn.

 _She's as wily as they come,_ he thought, nodding his head to her as he continued on. There was no point in pretending he didn't notice. He knew an old fox when he saw one.

He continued on, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, allowing his attention to drift somewhat until a small, _tinkling_ sound caught his attention. Pausing in his stride, a small smile touched the corners of his lips and he found _her_ standing in an alley. Mimi was shorter than he, though the light in her eyes and the beaming smirk on her face upon his seeing her told of a much taller soul. Like him, her outfit, a navy-blue dress with a sash wrapped about her waist, was a touch disheveled from having spent too many days and nights on the road, but it didn't appear to have dimmed her spirit in the least. Swaggering on over to him, a sac swinging in one hand, she gave a light laugh.

"Took you long enough to wander on over," she said, swinging the sac over her shoulder. Taichi shrugged, resuming his walk with her by his side.

"I had to play the part of uninteresting errant," he explained. "Taking my time helps the look. How's business?"

"I've got food." Mimi laughed, hefting the sac. "Not a whole lot, but they sure weren't keeping an eye on it all that well. None of the cooks or porters were paying much attention. Too busy on the big business around the bakery."

"They look like they've been on the road a long time." Taichi glanced back at the caravan. "I bet it's probably the most interesting thing that's happened in a long while."

"Sure did seem that way," Mimi agreed, glancing over her shoulder at the steadily shrinking crowd behind them. "I thought for sure that there was going to be blood, what with the way that one Lady acted. And all over a sign? Sheesh. I'd hate to think what she'd do to us for stealing a few of their coins and grub."

Taichi gave her an alarmed look, and Mimi gave a light laugh.

"Oh, don't be like that," she said, trying to set him at ease. "There's no one here but honest village folk, and I don't think they're too kindly disposed toward imperial outsiders taking one of their own and causing such a ruckus. Why, I'd bet they'd throw us a feast to celebrate our fine, upstanding act of heroism if they had half a mind for it."

"I'm surprised they aren't doing any robbing themselves," Taichi added, taking a look about and noticing the surprising lack of people. "Too busy not wanting to end up like the baker boy I suppose."

"Sounds about right to me," Mimi giggled, looping an arm through his. "Anyway, we've got enough to live and eat for a little while, so how about we make ourselves scarce and move on, neh?"

Arm in arm, the two left the village and its problems behind them.

6


	3. Chapter 3

The Veiled Lotus

By: Crazyeight

Chapter: 03/ Shadows on the Wall

Mimi poked the fire and the wood cracked in response, casting fleeting, short-lived sparks into the air, making her think of fireflies. Taichi slept across from her, sword lying at his side and a peaceful expression on his face. Frowning, irritated at how he could sleep so well on hard, uncomfortable ground, she took her stick and began to reach toward him, aiming at his cheek.

His hand snatched hold of the stick lightning quick and an eye cracked open in bemusement.

"Can't sleep?" he asked. Puffing her cheeks out, Mimi gave the stick a hard tug, and Taichi let go of it with a smile, almost causing her to tumble backward. With an annoyed huff, Mimi righted herself and brushed aside a strand of hair.

"No," she admitted. "And I hate that you can do it anywhere at any time."

Taichi chuckled dryly and shifted so that he faced her more fully.

"So, if you can't sleep, neither can I?"

Mimi stuck her tongue out at him childishly.

"Could have sworn you had your time of the month already," Taichi sighed, though his eyes danced at her playfully. Mimi promptly threw a clump of dirt at him.

"Brat!" she said scornfully. "See, this is why you can't settle down with a good woman! You never have anything good to say about us!"

"You're woman enough for an entire village," Taichi said, rolling back over and closing his eyes. "Don't know why I'd need anyone else."

A dark blush erupted on Mimi's face at that, causing her to turn away and face the darkness surrounding the campfire.

"I hate it when you say things like that," she said softly.

"Hm?"

"Nothing! I…"

Mimi yelped suddenly as the earth shook violently beneath them, causing their fire wood to collapse in on itself, sending a shower of sparks flying into the air. Taichi sprang up, crouched low like a spider, eyes darting to and fro until the shaking began to subside. Relaxing, he let out a breath.

"The father's anger…" he muttered before looking over at Mimi. "Are you all right?"

Mimi sniffed, but through her shaking managed an easy nod.

"I'll be fine. I'm just…" She swallowed and hugged herself tightly. "…startled, that's all."

Getting up from his spot, Taichi made his way over to her and took up her fire poker. Setting himself down next to her, he pushed and prodded the broken up remains of their fire back together before settling some new logs into place. The flames leapt up eagerly, seeming to be eager to reestablish itself and find comfort in its warmth. Taichi leaned back, saying nothing in the flickering light. Swallowing, Mimi looked at him out of the corner of one eye before returning her attention to the fire.

"You should probably get some rest," she said after a long while had passed. When Taichi made no reply, she turned and found that he had already nodded off. Her expression turning dark, she looked away, hugging herself tightly once more.

"I hate it when you do that too," she muttered under her breath. "Jerk."

 **###**

The castle walls shook as the earth thundered beneath its foundations, but the fit passed swiftly, leaving a startled silence that went as equally quick. Before too long however, the castle floors shook for different reasons, servants and officials moving rapidly to gauge what damage, if any, had been caused by the quake.

Marcus hurried through the halls, and after swinging around a corner, ground to a halt before a door and flung it open, his eyes darting about the room in alarm. The lamps were lit, and all remained standing, casting a soft, comforting glow about them that made the shelves and tables warm and inviting, all as though there were nothing wrong in the least.

 _"Father!"_ he called out, stepping inside, all the while mentally cursing the light for their comforting lies. "Father, are you here? Are you all right?"

"I am. There is no need to yell," came a voice from around a corner, and a curtain on the other side of the room parted, revealing a man with rich, red hair marred only by a salting of grey, scroll in hand. His brow was lined from his many years, but a spark of fire remained in his gaze, and his hand rested on a short sword that lay girted in his waistband. Marcus relaxed upon seeing him and he bowed his head in respect.

"I am glad to find you well," he said, his voice relieved. "I feared for the worst after that quake."

"Is the worst happening?" Marcus' father – Spencer – asked, his brow furrowing.

"The servants are investigating, but so far it doesn't appear to be so. At least with regards to the castle." He paused and glanced toward the closed window, upon whose wood flowed a white tiger. "There is, however, a red light to the north."

"The north…" Quickly crossing the room, Spencer drew open a window and peered out into the night. A deep red light did indeed burn in the distance, though even now it faded against the black, star filled sky. Turning away from the sight, Spencer made his way to the wall on the opposite end of the window, where sat a map of the land – outdated though it was by a hundred years. His eyes scanned its surface, and he nodded to himself, tapping an end.

"The Mountain again, for certain."

Marcus looked back in the direction of the open window, his dark eyes glaring daggers at the red light. It had been some years since The Mountain had last stirred. He had been a child the last time it woke, and he remembered the violent quaking then.

"That light is new," he noted. "I don't like it."

"Do you know of any who would?" Spencer asked his son with an amused look, causing Marcus to shift uncomfortably, feeling ashamed for having stated the obvious with regards to his feelings.

Spencer didn't allow him to dwell on it for very long, as he soon drew away from the map and returned to the window, closing it up.

"I want riders sent out to investigate."

"I'll go myself!" Marcus straightened his back, drawing his hands into fists as he did so. Spencer glanced at him, seeing his posture – a rigid spear-like declaration of defiance against that northernly light. His lips parted, only to pause in thought. It would not do for a lord's son to head into danger so brazenly, especially an unknown one, but he knew full well Marcus would be unable to rest while others went into the wild and unknown. His sister, Rika, tended to be the same, just as he had been himself at their age.

 _Must children resemble their parents so much?_

"Very well," he nodded finally. "But you are to take Thomas with you. He is more familiar with that region and has a calmer heart than yours. Heed him in all things."

Marcus' face tightened at that, but he bowed.

"Yes…Father."

"Do not speak so." Spencer gave him a hard look. "Your heart is young and hot and lacking in wisdom. I was like you once. I know where that leads and where it comes from."

"As you say," Marcus bowed his head in deference, though his lips remained drawn tight in clear disagreement. Spencer sighed. He would just have to hope that his son would either take his advice or that Thomas would keep him sufficiently reigned in for the duration of the mission.

 _An uphill battle, to be sure,_ he thought, questioning the wisdom of such a decision until the sound of the door sliding open caught his attention, revealing a young woman, who knelt and bowed low.

"More news regarding the quake?" Spencer asked.

"No, My Lord," the servant rose up, though her eyes remained downcast. "Katou has arrived. She requests your audience at your earliest convenience."

Marcus and Spencer exchanged looks at that before turning back to the servant.

"Thank you," Spencer said. "Have a room made ready for her and see that her needs are met until I am ready."

"Yes, My Lord," the servant bowed again and slid the door shut as she departed. Marcus _tsked,_ folding his arms together.

 _"Always one to arrive before a storm,"_ he quoted. "She's another one I don't like."

"Be that as it may," Spencer said, seating himself and laying his scroll out before him, "we need her more than she needs us. If you are with her, be civil."

"As you command, Father," Marcus replied, his eyes dark and thoughtful.

 **###**

Kristy Nonaka crouched down next to the wall, her dark-eyes shining with midnight stars of excitement. Before her, the wall stood, its tall grass painted upon its surface swaying from a wind only it could feel. Not that this mattered to the young girl. She could envision the wind in her mind well enough. She panned along the blades of green, her breath held in her throat and she strained her ears for even the faintest hint of sound.

"It's okay," she said to the mural in a hushed voice. "The Earth is resting again. You can come out. It's just me."

She fancied that she heard the grass rustle before a shadow fell upon her.

"Kristy! What are you doing?"

The young girl jumped with a loud yelp and spun about on her hands in spider-like fashion, her eyes falling upon one of the servants, behind whom stood a brown-haired, pale-faced young woman with golden, wolf-like eyes and a long, blue tattoo lay beneath them. Kristy's gaze drew itself immediately to hers, held by them in utter fascination. The woman stared at her impassively, save for a slight curiosity. The necklace of five blue gems that lay about her neck gleamed in the light of the lamps.

"Whaaa…" Kristy breathed, struggling to pull her eyes away from the woman, held seemingly in a spell until, finally, as though released, yanked her gaze away from the servant. "I…" She gestured to the wall. "I was just playing with my friend."

Pressing her lips together, the servant glanced over at the wall before turning back toward the girl. Kristy scowled, seeing that look and knowing full well what it meant. The whole castle knew about her 'imaginary friend' after all.

"You can play with him later," the servant said. "Run along now. We have a guest!"

The servant said this urgently, as if saying to Kristy not to embarrass their clan in front of a visitor. Kristy's eyes flickered over to the pale woman who now regarded the wall thoughtfully. The grass was silent, seeming to hold its breath just as she had mere minutes ago.

"Ohhh…" Kristy groaned. "But he's _shy!_ It took forever to get him to want to play today, and this is the only place he'll show up at! Now he's probably scared and won't…!"

"Kristy, not _now!"_ the servant exclaimed, pausing to bow to the woman. "I'm sorry. Our lord's youngest has quite the vivid imagination…"

"I assure you, it's nothing to be troubled over," the pale woman smiled, turning back toward them. Let the child have her fun playing with her Guilmon."

The woman looked down at Kristy, her gold-eyes shining.

"Guil…mon?" Kristy asked, tilting her head to one side. The woman nodded.

"Yes. Ah… You don't know that tale? The dragon who appears to children and whisks them off on adventures?" She gave a dry chuckle. "Well… I guess you wouldn't know. It's a story from out of the east after all, beyond the mountains in the realm of Maki, and you're far too young to be off your mother's strings."

She looked back at the wall for a moment before returning to Kristy. "Your friend is indeed quite shy. We shall leave you to it. I hope that our intrusion hasn't frightened him off."

The servant gave the woman a queer look while Kristy felt suddenly elated. Here… _Here_ there was finally someone who took what she said about her friend seriously!

 _Too bad she looks like she's sick,_ Kristy thought, making sure to keep her distance as the woman stepped around her, her fingertips brushing up against the wall in a caress before they parted ways. Within Kristy's mind, she heard the sound of rustling grass, and she wondered if her friend were unsettled by the woman's touch.

The servant gave Kristy a prissy look before starting off after the woman.

"T-This way, My Lady," she stammered out, hurrying after her and quickly taking the lead. Kristy watched them go for a moment before turning back to the wall. Silence reigned from it, yet that told her a great deal about her friend from within the grass.

"Don't worry," she said. "She's gone now. Do you want to come out?"

The grass rustled in her mind in response, but it had a distant sound to it. Pouting, Kristy kicked at the floor before glaring at the woman as she reached the end of the hall with the servant.

Raising one hand, she stuck her middle finger up in her direction just as she disappeared around the corner. "Bleh!" she spat in a most unladylike manner, tongue aimed spitefully between her lips before she spun about on her heels and stormed off, fuming angrily under her breath.

 **###**

Spencer slid the door open, revealing the pale woman – Katou – seated calmly with a cup of cold tea before her, gazing at a painting of a tiger, bright flames leaping up from its coat, hanging on the wall. Spencer glanced at it, a long series of reeds that had been strung together; a family heirloom, painted by some master from before the civil war that split the land into three realms. The 'Survivor' as it was called now, its original name having been forgotten in the turmoil of those long-ago years, but survived fire and sword, eventually finding its way here.

An ironic name, Spencer had always thought, for the painting was dead. No soul dwelt within it as far as he knew in all the time it hung from that wall.

"How old is it?" Katou said of the tiger, breaking the silence as Spencer slid the door shut behind him.

"Over two hundred years," he replied, coming around the table and seating himself directly across from her. "It dates all the way to the Akiyama Dynasty, before the Crown Prince vanished. It isn't what I called you here for however."

Katou tilted her head to one side, her expression unchanging. "No, it isn't." She swung her eyes over to him. "As you said in your message, the harvest moon approaches, and with it, the Great Fox Hunt. It is a time of spirits, and you have one awakening in the castle and not a one of your priests have been able to locate it."

"Yes," Spencer nodded, his expression grim. He felt his hand itch to feel the hilt of his long knife that lay at his side, yet he maintained an outwardly, calm composure. "Fortunately, there haven't been any incidents as of yet, but as you well know…"

"Yes." Katou took up her cup and drank from it. "Of course, you have accounted for all the shikami in your service?"

"I have."

 _"All_ of them?" Katou prompted. "Without proper guidance, a shikami can be confused and be quite difficult to pin down. Your youngest daughter appears to speak to one in the walls…"

"An impossibility, I assure you," Spencer interrupted. "Not a soul dwells in the walls of grass. She is…very imaginative. Her mother feels she may become a Dream Walker once she comes of age."

"Very well. Then another source? I am to understand that the fiancé of one of your daughters has a business related to them. Is there no chance that one of them could have gotten loose? Or perhaps been born prematurely and slipped away."

Spencer frowned slightly at that. _She sure does her research…_

"You are welcome to speak to the Wong family after I've drawn up the papers granting you permission, but I assure you that their reputation is without a blemish."

"For everything there is a first," Katou replied softly, running her finger along the rim of her cup. "Still, I will require a list of all shikami in your holdings here so that I may interview them, just to be thorough. Of course, you understand."

"Reluctantly," Spencer sighed inwardly, having hoped for a speedier resolution to Katou's presence. The Crow Priestess, as Katou was known by reputation though not by affiliation, could not be called upon lightly. She was oft likened to a storm cloud. Where she went, a shadow fell. While all shadows and storms passed eventually, the swifter they left, the better for all that lay underneath it.

Reaching into her coat, Katou produced a scroll. Unrolling it, she laid it out for the two of them.

"Shall we lay out the terms of my service before we continue further?" she asked, her gold eyes shining in the lamplight.

 **###**

Katou followed the servant down the hall, their feet echoing softly in the quiet as they went. The earlier noise of the castle had calmed considerably since the quake, no doubt a sign that there had been no fatalities or noticeable damage. Certainly, the world wasn't in any danger of ending right that very moment, which no doubt played an even greater role. Katou could understand that, having tasted such an end before during the Great Wars that tore the empire apart. It mattered little in her mind now. Events such as this were little more than a spring morning; passing swiftly and moving on to other things before being noticed.

 _Whatever damage exists here I will fix on the day I come into my inheritance,_ she thought as they came to a halt. The servant turned and knelt down onto her knees before sliding the door open.

"We have arrived, My Lady," she said, bowing low.

Katou stepped inside, surveying her surroundings. The room was fairly spartan, save for a plant, a table and a picture of an endless field on the wall. Reaching out with her senses, she touched the artwork, but felt nothing. Nothing there at any rate, but the castle buzzed around her with hidden life that, even now, kept a close eye on her.

And that was fine. Strangers, she knew, deserved watchful attention until one came to know them better.

"This is sufficient," she said, turning about to further inspect the room.

"Would you like food and drink brought to you?" the servant asked. "It might take some time thanks to the quake, but I will see it done if you desire it."

"Yes," Katou nodded absently. "And fresh clothes as well, but see to it that a shikami brings it. I wish to begin my investigation as soon as possible. That is all."

"As you wish," the servant bowed again before sliding the door shut with a quiet click, leaving Katou alone with the room and the castle's watchful gaze. Taking hold of her robes, she slid them down, revealing her bound chest. She rolled her shoulders alongside her neck, humming pleasantly as joints, long stiff, cracked. The room was warm and soothing to the skin. The castle, whatever misgivings it had about her, at least didn't play favorites and performed its duty as intended. However, she soon pushed it out of her mind and instead made her way over to the wall at the far end of the room, sliding it open to reveal a landing that overlooked the eastern end of the city. Roofs glinted coldly in the chill of the moon, a curved scythe in the sky. Angling her head northwards, she caught sight of the dying crimson – the Mountain, as she knew it to be beyond doubt. Word would travel swiftly, leaving her to wonder just how long it would be before the empire' steward would send soldiers to lock down the entire area.

 _Not that it matters,_ she mused, feeling her necklace resting against her bare, pale skin. _However things go, I'll fix it all in the end._

 **###**

 _Just a tree. Just a flickering of the fire as it dies. Just a person taking a piss in the woods._

Takato scrunched up his face at that last one and shivered. He tightened his blanket about himself, a vain attempt at fending off the cold of night that continued to invade his sleep. He shifted, trying to think of anything other than the icy fangs that gnawed relentlessly on his feet, but there remained little for him to focus on that would bring him comfort. Shadows loomed in all directions, laughing and pointing at him with long branching fingers and gaping, dark eyes. His face bloomed with shame at the old, childhood terror.

 _Not demons. Just trees and people. Nothing more. Demons don't take a wizz. They eat people. Come on, Takato… You're just shy of being a man! Why can't you let this go?_

The answer, of course was obvious. Because he was in an unfamiliar environment surrounded by strange people, some of whom hated him for the disruption he brought into their trip. The strangeness of it all awoke old fears long buried; feelings he thought he had been rid of once upon a time. Calling things for what they were – _really_ were – helped drive it all back. Helped keep from going crazy as it had once upon a time in his youth.

In many ways however, it was easier – and far better – to focus on that old terror than to think of the alternative.

An image of his mother's face swam in his mind, and with an effort, he forced it out, clenching his eyes shut to keep in the hot dampness that threatened to break past them – the only warmth he had known all night.

 _Just a horse snorting. That branch breaking is one of the guards feeding the fire. Nothing to worry about._

 _"Take me with him."_

"Ah!" Takato shot up from his blanket, clawing at the sides of his head at the memory of his mother striding up to Henry, demanding that she share a place with him. It hadn't gone over well, and the judge woman – Seiko – had to step in and make it _very_ clear that only Takato could be punished without distorting the spirit of the law any further. Not that it stopped her from trying to haggle out _some_ kind of arrangement. Seiko however was at once far too shrewd – used as she was to the double dealings of her office – and too committed to her own ideals. The whole scene played out once more in his mind, twisting the memory like a knife.

 _All my fault! It's all my fault!_

"Would you stop it, already?"

Jerking, Takato looked to find Kazu sitting up, rubbing at an eye.

"Uh… Stop what?" he asked.

"That thing you're doing with your head," Kazu said, pointing at him. "You're worrying yourself up too much and it's hard enough sleeping without you piling on the trouble."

"Sorry," Takato sighed, his shoulders sagging. "I've been nothing but trouble since you came back…"

"And stop that too," Kazu grunted, falling back onto the ground. "It's not like you knew what the laws were. Our village belonged to another lord before he got toppled and crucified, and we're pretty much a background place. No real importance. Even the tax collectors hardly ever stop by for a pint of beer. And when was the last time _you_ left home?"

Takato shifted, looking away. "I hate it when you try to make me feel better. It makes me feel like I can't even do _that_ on my own."

"That's because you get yourself worked up too much. You overcomplicate things. You need people like me because I help simplify things. So here's a dose of simplicity: You didn't know what you were doing, and you barely ever leave home so you're not used to traveling like this or working the kind of jobs I do on a regular basis." He gave a soft chuckle. "Your feet are going to be feeling those miles at the end of tomorrow's horizon, guaranteed. You're lucky you've got me here to teach you the ins and outs. At least I won't crack a rod over you if you mess things up, though the good Lady's favor will learn people to keep their hands and rods to themselves."

Takato fingered the scarf that still hung about his neck, once again disconcerted by its presence. After another moment, Kazu spoke again.

"Remember that story we told at night about the old hollow tree?"

Shivering, Takato laughed nervously in recollection. He remembered that night well. The two of them and a friend had done the unthinkable and went out together in the middle of the night for a test of courage. They camped out and told stories around a fire to terrorize each other. "Yeah. The tree that 'grew a belly' so it could eat people. But why…?"

"Perspective," Kazu grunted. "You're in one belly of the beast. But at least this one might spit you back out. Don't sweat too much over this. You've got five years. Less if you do a _really_ good job. That's a better deal than most people get in your position. A Lady's favor too! Don't mess things…"

The earth rumbled suddenly, breaking them out of their conversation and causing a start amongst the camp.

 **###**

Candlelight flickered in the wagon, and Rika sat before it, rolling a stamp in one hand as she gazed at the flame, her dark eyes deep in thought. Behind her, Seiko sat on the floor, her own eyes flickering up to her from the small, rolled up band of reeds.

"The boy knows nothing," she said. Rika's eyes glanced away from the candle before shrugging, returning to it.

"That much is obvious," she replied. "Which is annoying. We could have stayed longer and tried to find out more about that messenger. There has to be _someone_ there who knew about that dragon."

She clenched her teeth, hating her mother's rash behavior. Because of her, the mystery of the dragon would likely remain unsolved, leaving her only with a hypothesis, and who knew if it were at all true?

 _Henry has guessed something,_ she thought. She had no proof beyond his sudden interest in the village youth and his sign. She wouldn't ask him however, preferring to puzzle it over and observe; gather proof however she might. That sign… She would need a closer look at it. How old was the wood? What about the paint used? She wanted to kick herself for barely giving it a glance when it first came up. If she had, perhaps she might have sensed whatever spirit lay within it. _If_ a spirit lay within it.

A shikami. It made sense after a fashion, though it took some of the air of awe away from the mystery. A shikai would have been preferable. Purer than the spirits that were born in the makings of men and possessed of a unique, earthly wisdom that went farther back than the first cities.

The kind of spirits that gave her the fiery red hair that she now saw as her curse.

"Why aren't you upset by it?" she asked after a moment. "You went to an awful lot of trouble to redirect us to that village and all we got out of it was a stupid sign and some dumb boy."

Seiko extended her scroll a bit more, though a small smile graced her lips.

"The gods will things as they will," she replied. "I believe we have what's needed. That we got what we were meant to retrieve. All that matters now is solving the riddle. And as I recall, you love riddles."

Rika _harrumphed_ at that, not in the least bit satisfied by her grandmother's response. Before she could say or do anything else, the wagon shook suddenly as the earth groaned beneath them, and Rika caught hold of the candle and a scream ripped out into the night. Turning angrily, she cast her senses outward, seeking the source of the trouble.

She flinched suddenly as a vision flashed across her mind. A scream and fingers, long and dark, twisted and knotted. A looming, many branched shadow, over and gone almost as quickly as it came.

 _That's never happened before…_

"Rika?" Seiko asked as the door to the wagon was quickly yanked open, Henry appearing in the candlelight, sword in hand.

"There's been an incident," he said, his eyes wide and shining in the dark.

 **###**

A/N: And this chapter marks the last one that I have pre-typed. I have more material hand written out in my notebook. I intend to take my time with each update for this story as the setting is still fairly new. As such, I need to take extra care while writing and posting.

Until next chapter.

-Crazyeight

9


	4. Chapter 4

The Veiled Lotus

By: Crazyeight

Chapter: 04/ A Box Half-Empty

Rika heard the sound of shouts emanating from outside, increasing in steady volume as more and more people joined together, becoming a rolling thunderclap in the camp. Her fingers curling into her palms, she rose up, expecting something more than a mere 'incident.' The vision from before, sharp and clear, rose in her memory.

"What happened?" Seiko asked, and the light from Rika's candle flickered, as if sensing the gathering will from the older woman.

"It's…" Henry glanced over his shoulder. "No. It's better if you see it. It's…" He shook his head, as if in disbelief. "I have no words."

"Rika, stay here," Seiko said, climbing to her feet with an aged grunt. Rika felt a flash of anger at that, but Henry shook his head.

"Actually, My Lady Hata, it might be a good idea for her to accompany us. We need her senses. You know they are sharper than yours."

Rika felt a gleam of pride at that, and a smirk touched the corners of her lips, but it quickly vanished as Seiko turned a sharp look at her.

"This is no laughing matter. If someone is hurt…"

"Blood doesn't frighten me," Rika replied, quickly stepping toward Henry and dropping out of the wagon. Seiko sighed at her granddaughter in resignation, seeing that the girl would pay her no heed, as was her habit once her mind had been made up, but soon followed after, taking Henry's hand so as to help her out of the wagon. They didn't have to go very far, as a quick glance around revealed their guards surrounding a tree that stood on its roots amidst torn up earth, its trunk split open like a gaping maw. A pair of branches were stretched forward like arms, and there, impaled on its ends, stretching long and finger-like, was a guard, his mouth open and slack with blood spilling over his lips; his eyes wide and full of terror.

"What… What is this?" Rika stammered out, stunned as they drew near. "How…?"

"Rika," Seiko said sternly, stepping in front of her, holding out a hand between them in a warding gesture. "Henry, what happened?"

"I don't know," Henry nodded. "Not a single noise until the man screamed and suddenly it was there."

Seiko's eyes went down to the trail of broken earth. "Yet it came from the forest," she noted, her eyes following the path in the flickering light cast by the torches and remaining campfires. She frowned. "I wasn't aware that this forest contained any spi-Rika!"

At Seiko's cry, Henry whirled about, seeing that Rika had slipped past her grandmother like a shadow, and was approaching the tree, one hand raised. Shocked, Henry dashed forward and grabbed hold of her shoulder, yanking Rika backward.

"What are you doing?!" he hissed at her sharply. Rika flushed hotly in embarrassment as she realized what she had been doing, but she tempered herself and smiled with bemusement.

"Not being mindful, it seems," she said, her tone not faltering in the least. "But I _do_ need to get closer. Accompany me."

Henry cocked his head to one side at that. "You…can't sense anything from here?"

"No," Rika shook her head with a slight frown, unhappy with the admission. "There had been something earlier but now…"

"Perhaps it is concealing its presence?" Seiko suggested, though her tone suggested that even she didn't believe that to be the case. At this point, there would be no reason for a spirit to do so. Starting forward, she approached the men gathered around the tree and found Ichigo there, having arrived just before Henry went to fetch Seiko and Rika, and was now directing them. Seeing Seiko, he bowed his head to her.

"We're getting the campfires lit up as bright and hot as they can go," he reported. "Just in case there are any more of these demons out there, they'll think twice before attacking us again."

"Prudent," Seiko replied, her tone calm and analytical. "And what of the one that _did_ attack us?"

"Still as a stone." Ichigo turned back toward the tree, still frozen in place with its grizzly prize decorating its 'fingertips.' "It hasn't moved since it killed Itiro. We have it surrounded, but none of my men will go near it. I was just about to do so myself once the fires were bright enough…"

"That won't be necessary," Rika interrupted. _"I'll_ be the one testing those waters."

Ichigo scowled at the young Lady. "I _strongly_ advise against that…"

"I've been advised by others much the same," Rika said. "Now step aside and let me…"

"No. I'm afraid that I _cannot_ allow the heiress to the Nonaka House put herself in danger until we are _certain_ that there is nothing…"

There was a low scrape as Henry drew his sword, and the long, golden blade, damasked with serpentine red, flowing patterns, flashed in the light of the campfires. Without a word, he dashed forward, just as Rika's eyes grew wide at this unexpected act. He swept through the crowd, unleashing a tremendous battle cry that startled guards and sent them jerking away in fright. Taking no notice, he ground to a halt before the tree and, after taking his measure, swept his blade out in a long, arching stroke and – _thunk –_ sunk his blade into a branch. Its edge bit deep, yet no response came from the fell wood, save for the light tremor of the weapon's impact. Wrenching it free, Henry stepped back, sword held before him and ready, his grey eyes watching it warily.

Rika held her breath, eyes still wide as her heart hammered away in her chest. One second. Then two, which quickly drew out to three. Finally, unable to take the silence any longer, she stepped forward.

"It seems to be safe," she said, brushing by Ichigo, who stood there, mouth hanging open in horror and twisted rage toward her fiancé. Not that she could blame him, given that he was charged with their protection. But even without that, to see Henry draw his sword… It struck her as somehow _wrong._ The man rarely took it out for anything other than ceremony and hated fighting by his own admission. Coming alongside Henry, she placed a hand on his shoulder, fixing him with a hard look before turning to the tree.

"That was foolish of you."

"At least we know the truth, right?"

"And if it _had_ retaliated?"

"Then I suppose the wedding would be off, wouldn't it?"

Rika punched his shoulder at his casual response – _too_ casual for her liking – glaring menacingly at the tree all the while.

"We will talk later."

"Looking forward to it. Are you close enough now?"

"More than." Sliding her eyelids shut, she cleared her mind and extended it into the bark, drinking deep the sensation of cool, night air, lit by fire, playing along its crimson and gold leaves. She felt the leaves rustle at the light. A reflex, she wondered, and not for the first time, and the question soon lost itself in the life of the tree, supping on earth and water with roots that dug deep into the soil as she traced along its living wood, her skin prickling upon coming on the cut Henry had made. Sap, sticky and sweet to her tongue, slowly flowed out to coat the injury.

Yet, through all that, she registered no spirit dwelling within. Only the alien feel of the corpse hanging in its limbs registered faintly, dripping blood onto the ground; a vague sense of something that hadn't been there before. The closest to being surprised that a tree could feel, she supposed, but it was already swiftly being forgotten. Only the wound now held its attention, but even that wouldn't last.

"There is nothing here," she said finally, withdrawing her mind.

 _"Bullshit!"_ exclaimed one of the guards behind her. "I saw it reach out for poor Itiro! That _thing_ is no tree as sure as day and night! It's a _monster!"_

"If there was, it's not here now," Rika replied, turning up at the dead man. She frowned upon seeing his face, a thought occurring to her. For the moment though, she kept it to herself.

The guards weren't convinced however, and upon a shout that axes had been gathered, they immediately began to lay hold of them, emboldened by Henry's sword work. Taking hold of Henry's arm, she drew him off, seeing no reason to stop them and having no desire to even attempt to do so.

"Is it truly just a tree?" Henry asked, sheathing his sword onehanded, watching as their guards fingered the axes they had chosen before taking aim.

"Yes," Rika nodded. "Do you doubt me?"

"No," Henry said. "I just… I suppose I'd feel better for the tree if it weren't."

Rika glanced over her shoulder to find one of the men swing their axe in an overhand arc, the blade, shining brightly in the light of the torches and campfires, swiftly finding purchase with a deadly bite. The guards roared joyously at this and soon more axes joined in, beginning their work in the flickering, orange light.

She gave Henry's arm a soft squeeze and they left the guards to their work.

Rika turned to find her grandmother, still with Ichigo, hands folded before her and an angry shine to her eyes that mirrored Ichigo. There were promises that words would be had in her grandmother's eyes.

 _Wonderful…_

"No spirit?" Seiko asked. "In that case, if they think this will end their troubles, they may have to cut down the entire forest to do before we are truly safe."

"They have their monster for the time being," Rika said, disentangling herself from Henry's arm. "This land seems to have a number of mysteries here. Where's Shioda and the boy?"

"Forgot his name already?" Henry chuckled. "Not what I would have expected from someone who gave him her protection."

"They were supposed to be near our wagon, were they not?"

"Yes…" Henry frowned and trailed off, looking about and not spying either of the Wayu youths. Rika could already tell what was going through his mind. Servants and slaves attempting to escape were nothing new. Yet, while she would expect such from someone like Kazu, she found herself feeling disappointed about the other one, Takato. Remembering his name called forth the visage of the unruly-haired boy with sunset eyes. She hadn't thought of him as someone who would renege on a debt owed.

 _Of course, Kazu could have browbeaten him into it. Still… Even he wouldn't abandon his duty as long as he held it in his hands._

Her skin crawled at thinking of the porter in any respectable fashion, but there it was. Feeling her shudder, Henry turned toward her with concern.

"Rika?"

"It's nothing. I was wondering if they might know anything about this, but as it stands, given that they didn't know about the dragon, it's unlikely they know anything about this either."

"I can have someone search for them," Ichigo suggested.

"Please do so," Seiko said. "In the meantime, Rika…" The elder matriarch turned toward her granddaughter and gestured toward their wagon. "If you would be so kind as to indulge an old woman her concerns…"

Rika groaned inwardly.

 **###**

Henry left the two women to their 'discussion' and turned toward Ichigo.

"Well," he began with some bemusement, "I'm awake now. I might as well make myself useful and go hunting for those two servants of mine."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow at this.

"Didn't you want me to detail some men to find them for you?"

"Yes," Henry nodded. "It would be appreciated. I just feel the need to stretch my legs and be of some use. I'm not falling asleep anytime soon thanks to all this excitement."

He gestured to the tree as the guards howled in triumph as Itero's body fell free from its clutches. Many took the opportunity to spit and kick at the tree, cursing it. It wouldn't last for too much longer now, as its branches shook violently from the rise and fall of the axes that bit into its bark.

Ichigo nodded to him and, for a moment, a touch of respect crept into his eyes toward the other man.

"That _was_ insanely stupid sir, if you don't mind my saying so. Your safety is my responsibility."

"Yes." Henry gave a soft chuckle at this. "My fiancé has already mentioned that."

"Pots and kettles," Ichigo hummed, remembering how she walked fearlessly toward the tree in the first place. "I'll have some men look for signs of them around the camp, but if they've slipped away, I'm afraid finding them will be difficult until we get some daylight. Very few of my men are experienced trackers."

"Neither am I," Henry admitted. "But first we should see what we can find and then cross whatever bridges we get to."

Movement caught his attention just then, and looking up he saw a familiar, serpentine creature twisting in the air just above the edge of a campfire's light. Its golden eyes caught his and held him in its gaze for one, long moment before breaking away and slipping off into the night.

"Well, time for me to find that bridge," he said, bowing politely to Ichigo. With that, he took off in the direction of the dragon. It didn't take long for him to find it again, as it sat atop a wagon, its long, curved body basking in the sliver of moonlight hanging in the sky, golden eyes following him. It appeared to be waiting for him.

"You know where he is, don't you?" he asked it. "Your creator, Takato. Will you lead me to him?"

Claws scraped on wood and the dragon took to the air again and wheeled off, keeping just within Henry's sight to guide him along. Hurrying after, Henry felt a burst of excitement.

 _It might not be a messenger of the gods,_ he thought, _but if I'm right, it could be so much more…_

 **###**

Kazu grunted as he adjusted Takato's body on his shoulder. His friend was doing his best to keep from being a burden, but the sick fire that burned within his body drained him of so much of his strength that it was all he could do to keep from collapsing altogether. Takato murmured something under his breath. An apology, Kazu felt, and he looked at him worriedly, feeling the heat baking off of him and suffusing into his own skin.

 _It's like someone lit a bonfire in his belly,_ he thought, amazed and deeply concerned at how rapidly this strange and sudden illness had fallen over his friend. One minute, they had been talking about old times and old stories, and in the next, Takato had collapsed while searching for a bush to urinate in. Sweat stood out prominently on his face in the light of the relit campfires, and briefly he wondered why they were burning again, only to brush it aside as nothing more seemed to come out of them beyond some excited shouting. Perhaps some animal or stranger had come in. Who knew and who cared if no one was dying at that very moment? Approaching the wagon belonging to the camp doctor, he kicked at it.

"'Ey! You in there? I've got a sick man here!"

The wagon door popped open, and an old man poked his head out, a dark, fearsome frown on his brown, leathery face.

"Oh. It's you. What's going on now?" he demanded heatedly. "I keep hearing some kind of ruckus down the other end of the camp. What did you do _this_ time, Shioda?"

"I didn't do anything!" Kazu shot back, almost letting his temper get the better of him. As he said this, Takato slumped forward with a groan, and Kazu scrambled hastily to lift him back up. "Please," he said desperately to the healer, once he had his friend readjusted. "He's sick! Can you do anything for him?"

The old man looked down at Takato, about to tell the youths to bugger off – Kazu not being his favorite person in the world, and anyone associating with him were, in his view, just as bad – only to hesitate when he spied the red scarf around Takato's neck.

"Damn my eyes," he grumbled. "What's wrong with him?"

"I…don't know, da-suul," Kazu replied, switching to honorifics, only for the old man to wave him off in irritation.

"Coming from you, that's swamp water, Shioda. Can you at least tell me what his symptoms are?"

"Fever. He just started burning up. He's been sweating like a pig the whole way here!"

"All right, all right. Bring him in and mind your footing. Don't upset the patient anymore than he already is." The old man stepped back, allowing for Kazu to climb up the stairs that led into the wagon. Kazu started forward, only for Takato to suddenly stumble against a step and nearly topple off into the dirt. Managing to catch himself however, Takato leaned against the doorway, shuddering violently. Sweat dripped off his face, and the doctor's mouth fell open at the sight.

"S-Sorry," Takato murmured, giving himself a shake before barking a harsh laugh. "I've been nothing but trouble, haven't I Kenta?"

The doctor raised an eyebrow at this, tilting his head to one side.

"My name is not… Oh. The fever. Gods… Shioda, hurry up and get him in here! He needs to lay down!"

"Come on, pal," Kazu said, urging his friend into the wagon gently. Space was cramped, but there remained enough room to lay him down without obstructing movement too much.

"Kenta…" Takato repeated, this time all but falling to the wagon floor as the fever burned ever hotter in his veins, causing his view of the world to swim. Kazu twisted his expression at the mention of the name.

 _In all the craziness, I didn't even get a chance to say hello to him…_

"How's he doing?" Kazu asked, helping Takato onto his back while the doctor brought over a small bucket of water along with a towel. "You mind telling me what he's been up to since I left the village?"

Takato mumbled something under his breath while the doctor dipped the washcloth in the bucket. After wringing it out, he set it on his forehead, and Takato gasped as the cool water's touch.

"Gods…" the doctor hissed, snatching his hand away from the youth as though he had been burned. "You weren't joking this time."

"I would _never_ joke about something like this!" Kazu turned his attention back to Takato. "Kenta… Come on. Tell me about the old bugger."

Takato's breathing became shallower, now slipping in and out of consciousness. Opening his eyes, his gaze fixated on Kazu, but what he saw was not the friend who brought him here, but rather that of a smaller, dark-haired boy.

A boy who held his head in his hands, while further up, his neck ended abruptly in a gaping wound of red flesh.

 _"NO!"_ Takato shouted, his heart slamming in his chest as he shot up in horror at the grizzly scene. At once, he found himself standing amidst a riverbank, the sound of trickling water rushing about him, a once calming sound that, now, filled him with terror. In his hand, he held something that caught the glint of the sun, but he barely took notice of it. All his focus was on Kenta, whose head smiled at him despite the blood that trickled out from his lips and streamed out of the stump of his neck.

As Takato stared, a droplet of blood swelled at Kenta's chin, growing fat before falling off… _plink…_ into the river, joining the cloud of red that swirled around his ankles.

 _"It's not your fault,"_ Kenta said, and in the next instant, the vision was shattered as Takato's back slammed against the floor.

 _"Takato!"_ exclaimed Kazu, holding his shirt tightly in his hands. "Get a grip! You're all right!"

Takato blinked in surprise, and he looked about to find the doctor cowering a short way back, seemingly startled by the scene in front of him. He could feel his skin prickling from all the heat radiating from him, but Kazu… _Kazu_ was there, and his presence anchored him.

"W-Where…? This…This isn't a dream, is it?" Glancing down, he found the red scarf about his neck, and his hand rose to it, fingering the soft, silken fabric.

"Wish it were," Kazu said regretfully before his eyes flickered over to the doctor. Satisfied that Takato wasn't about to do anything violent, he drew close once more, a ceramic bottle in hand.

"This will help him sleep," he said, looking at Kazu for permission. "I don't want any more surprises while I work."

"Just help him," spoke up a voice from behind Kazu. "And take care. He's the _princess'_ property after all."

Whirling about, Kazu found Henry standing at the entrance to the wagon, one hand on his sword hilt and a hard expression on his face that spoke with deadly seriousness that the doctor was to keep to his duties.

"Don't think I didn't notice," the doctor said, lifting Takato's head and setting the bottle to his lips. "Pleasant dreams, boy."

7


	5. Chapter 5

The Veiled Lotus

By: Crazyeight

Chapter: 05/ The Shadow on the Heart

The sound of sticks clacking against one another, followed by the laughter of two children filled the air. Takato's bare feet splashed through the river stream, keeping just out of reach of the stick that swung through empty air where he had just been.

"You can't escape me forever," grinned a dark-haired boy, damp strands falling in front of his black eyes. Takato gave a snicker and stabbed out at his companion, who deftly blocked it and reposted, only to narrowly miss the sunset-eyed boy as he ducked underneath it, dancing backward to buy himself some space.

"Don't have to," he shot back. "You're not like Kazu. You'll get tired before you know it."

Kenta's face darkened slightly at that and he struck at Takato a little less playfully now, who now barely managed to catch his stick with his own with another laugh.

"Whoa! Hey! Take it easy! Sorry! Sorry! Come on…!"

 _Guess I should have expected that. Kazu's leaving is a bit of a sore spot for him…_

Kenta hesitated and drew back, his eyes still dark before resuming his attack, pressing Takato harder. His footing began to stumble now, and finally, he got snagged on a rock and toppled over into the water. It flooded over him and he quickly came up sputtering, gasping for air.

Kenta was there, looking more relaxed now, a small smile on his face.

"Sorry," he said. "Guess I got a little carried away."

"Yeah…" Takato nodded, a bit annoyed, but grinning back. "Yeah, just a little."

"Keep going?" Kenta asked, twirling the stick in his hand around. "I mean, the princess is waiting after all and you're supposed to be the knight in shining armor here. It'd look bad if you lost, right?"

Takato climbed to his feet in response, water dripping off every inch of him. He was going to get quite the earful for being so wet. Even if he said that it was an accident, odds were his parents wouldn't believe him or, even if they did, they would blame it on his mind constantly being in the clouds.

 _Didn't keep your footing… Weren't paying attention…_ Takato spread his legs apart, adopting a stance he had seen from an errant that passed through the village some months ago, killing another errant in a duel. The memory flickered in his mind and he saw the image of that victorious errant, his expression unchanging, looking as though he weren't about to face death. Completely the opposite of the one that had died; nervous and shifty, as if he knew what his fate was going to be. A fate of worm food.

He focused on that calm errant, wondering how he would deal with this situation, and he took a deep breath, attempting to clear his mind, losing himself in the game he and Kenta were playing and in the image of the errant. The stick was a sword; Kenta the enemy errant blockading his way to victory. He watched the errant as he delivered the killing blow, even as Kenta began to charge forward with a fearsome battle cry.

Takato shifted, and the stick, oddly enough, felt heavier in his hands, but he ignored it. All his mind was on the errant's move. He raised his stick into the air above his head, appearing to present his body as an easy target and then swung…

Kenta's eyes widened, his mouth turning into one giant, black circle before suddenly disappearing in a fountain of red that sprayed out, spattering Takato with crimson droplets that only ended when Kenta's headless body collapsed into the river. A cloud of red billowed out into the once clear water and swirled around Takato's legs.

He stood there in utter shock for a moment, staring dumbly at his friend's corpse before craning his head to one side, whereupon he found Kenta's, lying a short way off, leaning against the side of a rock, eyes wide, yet unseeing. The spark within those dark depths was gone, and his jaw was slack.

A violent tremor rose up in Takato just then and he awoke with a gasping start. The stream was gone. Kenta was gone. It was all gone; left to the shadows of dreams. All that is, save for his reality as a servant-slave in the service of a Lady and her fiancé.

"Awake?" came a voice amidst the rocking creaks of wheels and the sounds of talking from outside the wagon. "Ah, good."

A dark-skinned, old man, well-worn and leathery looking, knelt down over him and a hand pressed against his forehead.

"Huh?" Takato rasped. "Who…?"

"Fever's gone, finally," the man nodded. "You'll live, though whether that's a good thing or not depends on you." Seeing Takato's quizzical gaze, he frowned. "You've been sick for three days. Ogre fever locked in your veins. You burned the entire time. I've been keeping you cool and giving you medicine to keep you strong until it passed. It was odd how sudden it was. Do you have these often? Your friend said that you had a spell like this before."

Takato made a croaking sound as he attempted to answer. His mind was awhirl with confusion, but after a brief struggle, he found his voice.

"The last thing I remember…" he coughed weakly. "…Kazu and I were talking about…an old story about a killer tree."

The old man cocked an eyebrow at this, but Takato only continued, taking no notice of the odd look he was receiving.

"Kazu… Where is he?"

"Off doing his job," the old man replied, climbing to his feet with a grunt. "Funny that you mention a killer tree. We…" He paused, looking at Takato once more, his expression being rather hard to read in the boy's current state. "Well," he continued with a shrug. "What place doesn't have those kinds of stories, right? If something like that lived here, then it would make sense for you to know about it."

"What…are you talking about?"

"Never mind. It's not important anymore."

 _What a strange old man…_ Takato thought before trying to sit up, only to almost collapse as the world swam before his eyes.

"Might want to take it easy there, young one," the old man said over the sound of something being stirred. "You've only just woken up after a three-day wrestle with a fire ogre. The Lady and her fiancé won't be expecting you to be doing anything in your current condition."

At that, Takato threw back the covers and proceeded to 'swim' his way toward the door, struggling to keep from falling over the whole way as the wagon rocked back and forth.

"Oh for…! Now see here!" the old man exclaimed angrily, marching over toward him. "Are you _trying_ to sick up on the floor?"

"If I do, I'll be sure to clean it up before I leave," Takato groaned, closing his eyes to keep from losing it then and there. "I've got a debt to pay off. I won't have My Lady thinking I'm useless or anything."

"She'll think you're an idiot if you keep like this," the old man said, grabbing hold of him by the shoulder and drawing him back. "Come now. Special orders from the good Lady, all right?"

Takato glowered at the closed door before him, waiting for the world to right itself.

"Not all right," he muttered, starting forward once again. His hand fumbled for the door clumsily, only for the doctor to snake about to his side and snatch hold of his wrist.

"Heaven's sky, boy! Why are you so eager to put yourself to work? Most people in your position would much rather sleep this off and let the gods decide their fate. Do you aim to be a fool in your service? I…"

Whatever he had been about to say, his words were quickly lost as he stared into Takato's sunset eyes, which now took on an odd, burning, blue-like light to them that caused the man to lose his grip on the youth and stagger back. The light was gone almost as quickly as it appeared, and Takato briefly raised an eyebrow at the doctor's frightened demeanor before shaking his head and, with an effort, forced the door open. It swung out much more readily than he expected, and he found himself tumbling out onto the ground with a heavy thud that left him dazed for a moment amidst the throng of the camp as they set about dismantling the campsite and packing things up, preparing to move on and resume their journey. He caught sight of a few porters giving him an odd look before moving on with their duties. Planting a hand firmly on the dirt, he pushed himself up to his feet, wavered, and then started after them.

Behind him, standing in the entrance to the wagon, was the doctor, eyes wide and mouth parted.

"Fox Fire…" he whispered under his breath before clambering down the steps and scurrying off as quickly as his old bones would allow him in the direction of the wagon belonging to the three Ladies that governed the course of the caravan.

 _They should be told,_ he thought desperately, his breathing becoming harsh as he hurried along. _They should be told what they have found… Fox Fire! To think one of the Tails would be out here! I…_

"Hello there, Ser Yushima," came the voice of Henry, and pausing in his stride, the old man turned to find Rika's fiancé approaching him, sword girted again at his side and a small smile on his face. "Where are you going in such a hurry?" His expression changed, becoming at once concerned. "There's not a problem with our patient's health, is there?"

"His health?" Yushima shook his head. "He is fine now, though he insists on being up and about. It's more…about another matter related to him that I have observed that I am in a hurry for. To tell the Ladies. To inform them…" He pointed at his eyes. "Blue fire in his eyes. _Fox Fire!_ With the hunt so near at hand, I think… I think you have found…"

Henry raised a hand to his lips just then, making a sharp, shushing sound before glancing about in concern. Yushima's lips clamped shut, understanding quickly. With the Fox Hunt festival fast approaching, the simple servant-boy would suddenly appear _very_ different to anyone who by chance overheard their conversation.

"You said you saw it in his eyes, Ser?" Henry resumed, speaking in a softer voice as he approached the man, wrapping an arm about his shoulder and gently turning him in the opposite direction.

"More," Yushima nodded. "He spoke often in his fever, and when he woke up, he said something about how he spoke to his companion about a 'killer tree.' The timing of that on that night Itiro died… That _can't_ be a coincidence!"

Henry ran a hand over his chin, his eyes thoughtful.

"We must take care with this news so it doesn't get out," he said. "I'll keep a close eye on him. Where is he…?"

"Looking for work," Yushima replied. "He's in no condition for it, so I tried to restrain him, but when I saw his eyes…"

"Hush and return to your wagon," Henry said. "I'll inform the Ladies about our prize." He fixed Yushima with a stern look. "This doesn't get out. Remember that, so keep your tongue still on the matter unless one of our Ladies commands you to do otherwise."

"I understand," Yushima bowed. "But…we must still be careful! A Tail in the hands of a commoner… If the old stories are true, who knows _what_ could happen?"

"Hmmm…" Henry looked at him with a curious eyebrow. "I wasn't aware that you paid those old stories much mind."

Yushima _harrumphed._ "I didn't until I saw that fire in his eyes. It's enough to make a man change his mind about certain things if he values his health."

 **###**

Takato slid the first of the two buckets into the stream, feeling the oppressive eye of a guard on him as he stood up over the embankment, keeping watch to make sure he didn't attempt escape, on orders of _Ser_ Sugai – one of Lady Rumiko's personal attendants – who had found him alone and without a watch on him. He was feeling better now, moving about and doing something seeming to have settled things for him. Drawing the bucket out of the water, he saw his distorted reflection resolve and he paused on it.

 _Not exactly how you thought you would end up, huh?_ he thought, briefly wondering how things were for his parents back home. He didn't have long to ponder on the question, as a cough from behind him broke him out of his reverie.

"I'm almost done!' he growled in agitation, looking over his shoulder, half expecting the guard to be fingering his sword ominously, only to find instead Henry, Rika's fiancé standing above him, and though his hand was on his sword hilt, he showed no threat. Only a friendly smile.

"Sorry," Takato apologized, looking away in self-admonishment.

"No need to for that," the dark-skinned man said, jumping down to join him. "I heard you were up and about, so I thought it might be a good idea to look in on you."

 _In case I'm thinking of escaping?_ he wondered, though he said nothing about this. Instead, he took the remaining bucket and dunked it into the water, filling it up.

"You upset Yushima pretty badly when you left his care," Henry continued, leaving Takato confused for a moment before realizing that he referred to the old doctor.

"I guess there's a need for an apology there," he sighed. "I just…didn't want to sit around when I'm supposed to be performing services for you."

"An interesting way of thinking," Henry noted. "Just out of curiosity, what _would_ you do in my wife's service? Or in service to someone in general?"

"Huh?" Takato asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "What kind of question is that? You own me now, right? I have to do whatever I can do that I can. What choice do I have?"

Henry grinned.

"So, if I were to tell you to burn down a city, would you do that? What about turning lead into gold?"

Takato stared at Henry in astonishment before a laugh bubbled up from behind his lips.

"As if I could do _any_ of those things. What are you going on about?"

"Just a question I thought of since you're so keen on being useful while you work for my wife. But all right." He looked up at the guard and waved at him. "I'll keep an eye on him. Go take a break."

The guard's eyebrows lifted at that, and he looked about uncertainly, but Henry nodded encouragingly. After a moment of hesitation, the guard turned and left, leaving the pair alone. Reaching down, the dark-haired man dug up a rock and held it out to Takato, who took it in confusion.

"What do you see in that?" Henry asked. Takato tilted his head to one side.

"Uh… Is this a fox's question?"

"You could answer it and find out."

Takato glanced down. The rock in question was round, save for a slight bulbous shape on one end with no real color to it save for a mottled grey. It was slick with mud, and it felt grimy to the touch.

"It looks like any old rock to me," he replied finally.

"Is that what the spirit inside it says?" Henry asked, to which Takato again looked on in confusion.

"I… _really_ don't get where you're going with this."  
"The shikai. What does it tell you it looks like?"

Takato glanced down, only now starting to follow what Henry was saying. All things contained a spirit within them – the _Shikai –_ or so it was said by the priests who came through his village from time to time. Some great, some lesser. Lesser spirits rarely changed or grew from anything more than the rock he now held, but the greater could become something more than the form they held. All the old stories said that after a hundred years, a great spirit could become alive, and move about.

However, Takato knew he had no way of telling one from another unless it got up and moved on its own.

"It looks like just a rock to me," he said, shrugging apologetically. "Sorry. I'm not following you on this."

"All right," Henry chuckled, digging up another rock and tossing it in his hand. "How about a different approach then? You painted that dragon, right? You have the 'eye' for art, right? What does that eye tell you about that stone? What _else_ does it look like?"

"Ah…" Takato glanced back at the rock. It wasn't as damp now as before, but still grimy, making him want to wipe his hands on his clothes to clean it off. It was still as grey and devoid of features as before, and the knobby shape at its end remained unchanged.

 _What is Henry trying to do?_ he wondered. _Pretend that it's something else?_

As he gazed on, he found that the knob reminded him of a delicious smelling pastry that he had laid eyes on before, back when his father took him to a city to trade for some supplies. They cost too much for them to purchase, but there were times where he dreamed about making one of his own and…

He sniffed the air, and his brow knotted, perplexed. _Am I smelling one of those right now?_

As he watched, the stone flickered blue briefly, and Takato jerked, dropping it with a gasp as though it had burned him. At that, there was a sudden snarl, and a small, serpentine dragon shot out from nearby brush, its mane a brilliant red and white. Landing in front of Takato, who tripped with a cry as he fell back from the beast in shock, it reared up, hissing, gold eyes blazing menacingly at Henry. Henry staggered back as well, but with a wide smile on his face, having expected this.

"Easy, easy," he said, raising his hands in a placating gesture toward the dragon. "He's okay. No need to be angry. Right, Takato? Er…Takato?"

Takato's mouth was agape as he scrambled backward in the dirt, his throat working, trying to find noise and failing as every part of him seized up with tension and fear. A dragon! A _dragon!_ It was going to devour them! It…

It looked just like the one he painted on his sign.

The dragon's scales, moving as smoothly as a river, gleamed in the light of day, its tail flicking about in agitation. Dropping down onto its front claws, it gave a snort of fire in Henry's direction before whirling its head about in Takato's direction. The boy froze as their eyes met, every muscle, already tense, going rigid. The air about them seemed to pause. Even the sound of the flowing river felt as though it had vanished from all hearing until, with a single breath, the dragon broke its gaze away from him.

"W-Wha…?" Takato finally stammered out, forcing his eyes away, only to freeze again. His heart, long forgotten, thudded _hard_ in his chest. "What in _hells?!"_

Takato's yell exploded loudly, causing the dragon's body to coil and grow rigid, as if preparing to strike, and Takato raised the rock threateningly.

 _"No!"_ Henry exclaimed, hurrying over to interpose himself between the two. "Takato, this is _yours._ Do you understand? You made it! You made a shikami!"

"A-A _what?!"_ Takato couldn't take his eyes off the dragon. Didn't _dare_ to lest it suddenly get it into its head to come after him. "I _made_ this?!"

Henry tilted his head at this. "You didn't know? How could you _not_ know? Look at it. Look closely."

"I'm _already_ looking! I…I…"

Once more, Takato's eyes locked with the dragon's, and within that golden gaze, he saw a whirlpool of light and power burning within those depths, raging and twisting, threatening to drown him…to _burn_ him in a sea of flame. Already he could feel the heat rising about him, closing in. His mouth opened, preparing to scream…

"Breathe, Takato," came Henry's voice from outside that fire. "Just… _breathe…_ and _look."_

His breath hitched at that, and then the burning waters drew back, leaving an island for him to stand upon beneath a red sky. Another breath, and the red washed away to blue; the fires calming and disappearing, until, in the end, only the trickle of the stream and the sway of branches in the wind around him was left. As Takato looked on, the dragon began to fade, becoming translucent before finally vanishing from view. The youth blinked, taken aback by this.

"I…what…?"

Approaching Takato with a friendly smile, Henry knelt down and offered him his hand.

"There's a world for you to learn," he told him, "if you have the courage for it. Place your trust in me. In your dragon, and I will help you. For this is why you are here now. I don't believe it's an accident that we crossed paths when we did. Fortune has smiled on you. You can be _so_ much more than a simple peasant living in a backwater village. You can give so much to your family with this. To the empire. To whatever it is you desire. But first, this one step. Will you take it?"

Takato lay there for a moment, completely at a loss for words, his eyes flicking back and forth between the spot where the dragon had been and where Henry stood before finally scrambling to his feet. His eyes were wide and terrified, while his breathing was heavy and erratic. Henry's expression softened, wondering if, perhaps, he had pushed him too hard.

"Take it…?" Takato asked in a harsh whisper. _"Take_ it? You just told me that I'm a _monster_ … Some kind of demon who can bring dragons to life and…and… Oh gods… What… _am I?!"_

 _Kenta… Kenta!_ He blinked, rocking on his feet as his mind roiled with emotion, a flicker of memory just barely beyond his sight threatening to crush him with its weight. With an effort, he forced himself to keep from collapsing. This was all…so… _wrong._ Mortals didn't do what he did. True, there were those gifted with magic, bestowed upon them from the gods, but this was done only through oaths passed down through the royal bloodlines. All the stories said so, and he had _none_ of this in his life. The gods would not look well upon an outsider such as himself possessing such a power.

"What are you?" Henry asked. "You are blessed by the gods. Don't you see?"

"See? _See?_ What is it with the seeing? I _can't_ have this power!" His shoulders rocked and he seemed to shrink into himself. "I'm not supposed to! Everyone knows this. I have become an outsider."

"What if I were to tell you that even as an outsider you could render service to the gods as you are?" Henry asked, not quite understanding Takato's line of reasoning but desperate to draw him over to him. "That through your service to Lady Rika, I can intervene on your behalf…if you show proof of your works, your sacrifice and how they may be of use to the gods. Your family will be granted honor under their eyes. What do you say?"

He stood up and stepped closer to Takato, still holding his hand out. He said nothing now, merely waiting to see what the youth's response would be.

Takato stared at that open hand, feeling utterly at a loss for what road to choose. A slave. He was a slave, and now an outcast. Why was Henry so certain that Lady Rika would be able to intervene on his behalf?

But then, what did he have left to lose?

 _My parents… I have brought shame to them twice now. I can't just leave them to a fate like mine. I…I have no choice. I have to take this chance and hope that the gods are merciful enough towards them._

With that in mind, his thoughts cleared and became concrete. Reaching out, he took hold of Henry's hand.

"Raise your eyes," Henry nodded, "for the heavens will watch over you now."

7


	6. Chapter 6

The Veiled Lotus

By: Crazyeight

Chapter: 06/ A Shadow to Come

Mimi and Taichi made their way down the dirt road, the sound of their sandals the only noise in the quiet. Mimi shifted the bag she carried from one hand to the other. Frowning at the road and all of its silence, she _tsked_ and began to hum a happy, energetic tune before giving a little hop in the air. Her smile quickly returned and she began to feel a bit better.

"Please don't do that," Taichi said, glancing about them.

"Don't be a sourpuss." Mimi stuck her tongue out at him. "It's a beautiful day and it's quiet."

"That's the problem though."

Mimi huffed at him in response and continued humming away in defiance of his concerns. Even after a year of being on the road with him, she didn't understand his strange ways. He ranged from being ambivalent about never having a roof over his head to being concerned over the slightest of disturbances…or in this case, a lack thereof.

 _Who could be worried about a little quiet time?_ she wondered, kicking at the dirt. _It's not everyday that even the birds decide to stop chir…_

She paused on that.

 _No bird noises…_

There was always an undercurrent of noise no matter where she went in the wild. Squirrels rummaging in the brush; birds singing, yet now that she thought about it – strained her ears to catch even the slightest thing – she caught nothing save for the sway of leaves in a slight breeze.

 _There!_ Something flitting about; taking flight. She swung her brown eyes up and spotted a bird joining its brethren. As she watched, it spun about and settled down. A dozen birds, all seated and neat in a row. Watching the two of them, eyes turning as though they were of one mind.

Mimi felt the spittle in her mouth dry up and she stopped humming. Clutching onto her bag all the more tightly, she drew closer to Taichi and kicked him, causing him to stumble, sputtering in surprise.

"Wha…?! Mimi! Why…?!"

"You're a jerk," she grumbled, keeping close to him. Taichi glowered at her for a moment before muttering something irritably under his breath about her insanity. Clutching hold of her robe, she felt the hilt of the long knife hidden within and glanced about nervously, half expecting bandits to come storming out of the bushes, swords bared and howling fearsome battle cries. Taichi would likely take care of them, but all the same she hated that sense of danger and not knowing from when or where it would come. _Waiting_ became a bandit itself, stealing away her attention with a wide, vicious smile, sharpening the blade of time as it knew full well that was all it would take to make her want to lose her courage and scream in agony. It felt easier to wish that whatever would happen would just happen already so Taichi could kill it and they could move on.

She glanced back up at the birds, curious to see if they could tell her anything, but the few she could spot only continued to sit on the tree branches, their dark eyes tracking them. She shivered at that, and at once felt a spark of anger in her chest.

"Stop watching us…" she growled at them, pausing in her stride. Kneeling down, she snatched up a rock from the road and hurled it at the birds, causing them to scatter silently.

"Stop staring and sing, damn you! Make some noise!"

Taichi watched her with concern as she kicked again at the ground, hands planted angrily on her hips, yet he said nothing.

"They're not crows," she said, sensing his reasons for concern. "They won't remember."

Shrugging, Taichi continued on, his eyes taking in the birds, yet betraying nothing. Swiftly, Mimi joined him, her feet hurrying as though she did fear a reprisal from the small flock.

"Maybe we should leave," she suggested. "Go somewhere else.

"I'm in love with the idea," Taichi replied. "But the only other place that's nearby was that village, and it's four days gone along with our food. I'm not testing those birds to see if I can stomach them."

Mimi swallowed, her hand slipping into her robe now and fingering the hilt of her long knife. She chanced another look over her shoulder. The birds had since returned to their branches and watched them anew. Even to her, she doubted they would look appetizing even after a few days of starving.

"Why'd you have to pick this route?" she grumbled. "There's nothing out here anyway but the odd village or hut."

"Heard it was beautiful this time of year. Thought it was worth the detour."

"Did you hear about creepy animals?"

"It didn't come up, no. This could be new."

"Do you think it has anything to do with that earthquake?" Mimi's mind went back to that night. They were in the sight of the mountain after all – that cursed place. She heard many tales about it over the years. A tomb for an emperor or some such. She hadn't taken its stories seriously however. Now however, she began to wonder if she ought to reevaluate that line of thinking.

"Couldn't say," Taichi replied, continuing on. "Anyway, there's supposed to be another village on this road, so maybe they'll know something. We should be… Hello."

Pausing in his stride, Taichi's hand dropped to his sword sheath and he pushed the blade up, readying it for action. Mimi's own long knife was out in a flash, its steel shining white to the gleam of gold in Taichi's blade, curved like a vicious fang. Her brown eyes quickly zeroed in on what caught her companion's attention.

It stood over the body of a fox lying in the road, four limbs and pawing at the animal's body. Yet it itself looked less like a beast and more as though its own shadow had gotten up on its own and parted from its owner. Yet the sun didn't touch it. It remained there, a grey figure shaped like the fox. Turning its elongated 'face' toward them, it tilted its head, seeming to consider the pair of humans for a moment before darting off into the brush, leaving them to wonder just what it was they had witnessed.

 **###**

The ash was silent as the horses – a dozen strong – trampled it underfoot. To Marcus, that felt odd. The land had a dusting of the powder and residual wisps of it hung in the air, giving the impression of a light snowfall. It was certainly colder now, and becoming more so as he and his companions drew closer to the Mountain, now visible in the distance even without the plume of smoke piling skyward to indicate its location. It stood there, a stone spearhead of a fortress, sharp-edged and alone, brooding over the landscape, brooking no rivals in its presence.

The Mountain… That wasn't its true name of course, but for the people living within or on the borders of its shadow, it was the only name that mattered.

"Queerly quiet," Marcus heard a man say behind him, and he nodded mentally in agreement, though only for having noticed it now for its mentioning.

 _Silence means death,_ he thought, remembering his father's teachings, though if he were honest, the notion filled him with a bit of excitement. The prospect of death meant that something was about to happen, which would be a welcome change after the last three days since leaving Shiju-Iito.

"Steady," spoke up Thomas from by his side, looking up from his map. "We're almost within the shadow of the Mountain. We'll be seeing more of this before too long."

"How much further?" asked another man, a short, rotund one with emerald eyes and a thick, forest of a black beard about his chin.

"Tomorrow, if we keep up the current pace, though we'll want to allow for weather changes that may change that." Thomas looked skyward, noting the bleak greyness that filled the sky. There was a threat of rain in the air that all could smell, though not a scent that they were familiar with. A slight burning smell that initially caused their noses to wrinkle and twist in disgust. It wasn't terrible as of yet, and they got used to it, but the stench grew as the Mountain first appeared on the horizon and became larger in their eyes. The thought of what things would be like tomorrow weighed heavily on their minds.

 _Tomorrow…_ Marcus felt the flame of impatience spark hotly within his chest. He wanted so very much for the journey to be over so they could discover whatever there was to report…or to fight. His hand found its way atop the pummel of his sword, caressing it as he envisioned all manner of demons and monstrosities that they might battle. Horned ogres. Fox tricksters. Perhaps even the long dead army guarding the Emperor's tomb. His heart beat in excitement at that thought, wondering how he'd measure up to the guardians of that most ancient father of the empire. Warriors all without peer, he heard tell, but they were hundreds of years gone. Their swords, bronze then, would be no match for his steel.

 _Unless, of course, any of their number wield a Noble Sword,_ he thought, and he found himself wondering if they would find such rare weapons here. If they did, he hoped to earn one for himself so that he might prove himself to his father his worth.

"There's a hut up ahead," Thomas spoke up, breaking Marcus out of his thoughts. Following his indication, Marcus spotted the ash-covered roof of a peasant's dwelling poking out from behind a tree line. Urging his horse ahead with his knees, he pulled away from the rest of the group.

"I'll take a look then to see if anyone's home," he said with a flash of a grin, to which Thomas cursed under his breath, riding swiftly after him in an attempt to head him off.

"My Lord, wait!" he hissed as they drew close to the hut. Ignoring him, Marcus swung himself off with a laugh and hurriedly made his way toward the door, loosening his sword in its sheath as he did so, ready for anything.

"Ho, peasant!" he called out. "If you're home, open up in the name of Your Lord!"

 _And if you be beast or demon, beware,_ he added mentally as Thomas leapt down from his saddle, more curses burning in his eyes, glaring at him angrily. Marcus' smirk grew all the more at that, enjoying seeing the normally stiff, upright, virtuous man squirm. There was no way he would allow himself to be held on a leash, short or long by anyone lesser ranked than he. He was his father's son, after all. He would be given his due respect.

To further hammer the point home, he rapped hard on the door, but no answer came. He stood there for a moment as Thomas drew up next to him, mouth parting to chastise him for his rashness out in the wild, peasant's hut be damned, but Marcus swiftly spun about and brushed past him, his eyes zeroing in on the others in his command who were also now climbing off their mouths.

"Circle around and see if there's anyone to be had," he ordered. "Report on anything you find. Thomas and I will have a look inside."

With that, he returned to the door and pushed. It slid open easily and with little resistance.

"My Lord," Thomas began in exasperation. "Let me…"

Marcus ignored him and stepped in.

The interior of the hut wasn't anything special. One room with a raised, wooden floor above dirt ground. A fireplace sat in the center within a sheltered pit and tools sat against the wall, some in various states of repair or construction. Marcus snorted at the typical appearance of it all, half-wishing there was some clandestine sorcerer living within. At least then it would make this journey feel more worthwhile for them.

He heard the door slide shut behind him just then, and turning, he saw Thomas standing there, face illuminated in the little light that penetrated the hovel through the window. His eyes were narrowed and, of course, angry.

Marcus quickly glanced down at the other man's sword, making a note that his hand remained well away from it. Grinning, he thumbed the drawn edge of his blade.

"Well?" he asked. "You wish to say something?"

"Only that I am charged with your safety," Thomas replied stiffly. "I would appreciate it if you didn't go charging into every nook and cranny without allowing myself or one of the others to make certain that it is safe."

"I won't lead from behind," Marcus _tsked_ in annoyance, turning away and climbing into the raised floor of the hut. "That is not the way of a lord's son _or_ daughter." Images of Rika flashed through his mind, and he grated his teeth angrily, ruthlessly crushing the flash of emotion.

"Yes," Thomas acknowledged with a nod. "You _are_ a lord's son, and it is still my duty to see to your safety, be it a peasant's home or the caves of the Mountain that lies on the horizon. I do _not_ want to report to your father that I failed in my duty or that you were rash in your actions."

"Neither of us will do any such thing," Marcus scoffed, kicking at a small bowl. "We trained together, you and I. You know me as well as I you. Rest assured that your honor is as safe as I will be."

At that, Thomas let out a frustrated growl. "You damnable fool…" he began, only to catch himself at the last moment. Marcus' eyes shot over to him, shining excitedly in the dim light.

"Yes? Go on. Say what you mean, Norstein. Let's hear it, unless you want those black seeds to fester inside of you."

Thomas opened his mouth to say more, only for the sliding of the door to interrupt him. Mastering himself quickly, Thomas straightened his back and clasped the sheath of his sword, turning to find one of their companions, a tall, bulky man, youthful in face with arms of a blacksmith and a girth to match. Junpei's eyes lowered as he bowed his head.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said, his voice a soft, silken affair. "But we found something you might want to see."

With an annoyed grunt, Marcus hopped down from the hut's living room and approached Thomas, mockingly indicating for him to go out first. The other man narrowed his eyes at him before stepping outside.

Junpei led them around the back, behind a cluster of bushes, where they found, surrounded by the other members of their party, the body of an individual, skinless and bloody, his eyes wide and his mouth open, frozen in his final gasp of agony. Marcus felt himself go cold at the sight, and he stood there for a moment, all thought fleeing from him.

"He's fresh, this one," he heard another man, Takuya, say before brushing aside his light-brown hair before poking the corpse with a stick. "I'd say at least a day old. Looks like ogre-work to me."

Thomas took a quick look about them, eyes thoughtful. "No sign of one."

Shaking himself, Marcus quickly did likewise. Yes, there was little sign of anything other than the corpse and their own tracks. The ash was light, and older than the corpse, but the weather had been fair so far in spite of the clouds, allowing for very little disturbance of its surface.

"Ogres make far too much of a mess for work like this," Thomas continued, kneeling down for a closer look. "Look. This is very finely done. _Too_ finely done to be anything by an ogre. Nothing is disturbed. If this were an ogre, this man would be in pieces. As would everything else around us for that matter." Reaching out, he turned the corpse over, and it shifted stiffly. Prying open its mouth, he peered inside. "Swallowed his tongue. Suicide. I'd argue that whatever it was that took his skin just left him like this."

There was a sound of disgust at this and a shifting of feet as obvious discomfort worked its way through the group. Rising to his feet, Thomas looked over at Marcus. "With your permission My Lord, I would like to investigate the grounds a bit more. The contents of the hut indicated that there were more people living within. There may be more like this one."

Marcus jerked out of his daze, his eyes flitting over to Thomas before returning to the corpse.

"Of course," he said, cursing himself for the speed at which he replied. "Takuya. Junpei. You're in charge with burying this man. The rest of you are with Thomas."

"And what of you, My Lord?" asked Thomas, raising an eyebrow.

"I need to write a message to my father, informing him of this incident. It might be important to make sure that there is a record in the event that whatever happens to him befalls us."

"A wise choice, My Lord," Thomas bowed, seeming pleased with this decision. With that, he rounded up the others of their group, organized them into pairs and sent them off to scout around the area. Marcus watched them go for a moment, fuming over having his Second agree with him about sending a message toward home rather than being out there, searching for clues. It left him feeling like a coward. He wanted to tear off, find the beast that slew the peasant, and kill it before it got a chance to do so again. He…

He mechanically made his way over to his horse, unpacking the paper and ink while behind him, Takuya and Junpei busied themselves as best they could with the burial. They hadn't brought along any tools for a proper digging, and so made due with what they could from the house. Closing his eyes, he saw the red, dried out muscles and tendons of the poor man who had to endure the agony of being skinned alive and left to die. He wondered how long it had been before the man opted to swallow his own tongue and end it all. He couldn't imagine he was slow to such a decision.

He realized his hands were shaking on the paper.

"Get your head on straight, you puke of a child," he cursed himself under his breath as he dropped the paper to the ground and forced out the writing block from the bag as well. "If Thomas can be undisturbed by it, then so can I. You're your _father's son,_ after all!"

 _Thomas at least has seen battle,_ his mind whispered. _Real battle. Not just training sessions. Your father hasn't let you off your mother's strings even when you came of age, and your mother…_

He ground his teeth together as he took off the cap to the ink bottle and dipped the brush in. Ignoring the cruel whispers of the dark corners of his heart, he wrote out his message, taking great care to not rush through it and make a mistake, for both paper and ink were limited, and when he was finished, he covered it in sand. Once dry, he folded the message up into the shape of a bird and sent it off.

After a moment's thought, he crafted a second message, this one addressed to his grandmother and sister who were on the road with Rumiko. A bead of sweat crawled down his face as he folded it up, working his magic to pinpoint them, a much harder task to accomplish when the recipient wasn't at a city, but soon enough he sent this one off as well.

He sat in the dirt for a moment, feeling tired from the magical working – not his forte as it was with Rika or Seiko – watching the messenger bird fly off, hoping and praying to the gods that they would be all right when it found them.

Taking hold of his sword, he used it to push himself back to his feet.

 _Time to get back to work,_ he thought.

6


	7. Chapter 7

The Veiled Lotus

By: Crazyeight

Chapter: 07

Nighttime settled over Shiju-Iito and the city gleamed beneath it peacefully, as it had for the last four days. Katou liked that. Liked the quiet and the security she had seen so far, however false it might be. She couldn't remember the last time she slept so well.

 _A testament to Spencer's governing that his people can feel so safe under him,_ she thought, leaning against the railing of the outcropping of the Wong's business, her bare skin loving the warm air, the last vestiges of summer that continued to cling stubbornly to the world as it slowly gave way to autumn. _I wonder if I could rest here to the end of my days once I have finished my task._

The notion appealed to her, though she held doubts that such a thing could be possible. Her eyes turned away from that comforting glow and her hand rose up to the large beads draped about her neck, fingering them in thought as she turned her mind to other matters, memories of her still as yet incomplete task coming to the forefront.

 _The north… Could the sixth one be in the north? Buried within the Mountain?_

No answer came to her, and she stretched in place before climbing to her feet, deciding that her break was over. Knuckling her back with a grunt, she approached the table at the center of the room and took up a cake that lay next to a small cup of honeyed wine before settling down. Perusing through the pile of scrolls and reeds she requested from the Wong's archives, she scanned them thoughtfully. Three shikami were born within the last few weeks prior to her summoning. One of which had been reported as having 'died,' as its spirit failed to manifest within its vessel and subsequently vanished without a trace. Or so it was believed.

 _The shikami in question had all been made by the Wong family as a gift for an expected newborn in the kingdom of Maki,_ she thought, referring to a series of message reeds. _That makes it certain that they are lesser shikami. Likely little to no sentience. A mere toy to keep the child company until it grew up. Simple, repetitive behaviors. Normally quite easy to 'birth' for the Wongs, as was explained to me. Almost routine in fact._

She paused on that. The fact that it vacated its vessel suggested that it was not at all what it was supposed to be or some external force had altered it. She contemplated that further, wondering how it could have come about. While not unheard of, as the Wong's method of accelerating the maturation and birthing was fairly unnatural for them, Shikami rarely changed their nature and were reluctant to depart from the vessel they were born into. They weren't like shikai, their greater cousins, who built their own bodies. changed forms as they desired and, if they so chose, move from place to place.

 _Could a shikai have done this? Or perhaps…The Fox?_

Her heart quickened excitedly at the thought. Could she be so fortunate? She didn't feel so certain, nor did she want to get her hopes up. Leavings of The Fox, she knew from experience, were hard to locate and she doubted she could stumble over one so easily. Better to eliminate other potentialities before considering something rather outlandish.

 _The child… Spencer's youngest daughter. She is a Dreamer. Or has the potential to become one. Perhaps it became attracted to her for that and departed its body? Could she have altered it in some way? Perhaps into this 'friend' of hers that she speaks to in the Hall of Grass?_

She sighed and closed her sunset eyes, thinking back on that encounter from four days ago. Kristy's friend hadn't been seen since then, though the spirit continued to roam the halls, and the guards roamed as well, trying to locate it. Working around them was proving to be difficult despite Spencer's orders to them to leave her be. Not that she was surprised, as they took their job deadly serious, but the fact that it slowed her down grated on her patience, and she had been patient for far too long already in her life.

There came a knock on the door, and Katou looked up to find a young-looking woman with rich, earthy-brown hair – a strand of which fell between her eyes – standing at the door, her vibrant, bright-red butterfly imprinted robe all but demanding attention in the flickering candlelit room.

"Hello, My Lady," she bowed. "I have been sent to check in on you. Our shop is closing down for the night, and the mistress would like to know what you intend to do."

Katou glanced at the pile of records.

"I shall return to the castle," she replied. "However, I would like these records sent to my quarters so that I may continue my research there."

The woman bowed again, smiling politely without protest. Likely she knew, either by intuition or word from the Lady of the House, Mayumi Wong, that Katou, having Lord Spencer's favor, could enforce such requests in spite of the shop's policy regarding its archives.

"I shall see to it that they are prepared and sent to you. Will that be all?"

"Hmmm…" Katou allowed a small smile to touch her lips. "I do have another request. These cakes. I'd like them to be sent along as well."

The woman barely repressed a chuckle as she bowed again. "I'll see to it that they are. They come from a bakery from down the south end of our section. If you like, I can provide you with its name and directions so that you may become its patron in the future. I'm certain they would be honored to receive someone of your notoriety there."

"Perhaps," Katou replied, her smile slipping. "Though perhaps not as well as you might think. Thank you though. I do appreciate the offer and may take you up on that at a later date."

The woman tilted her head to one side questioningly at this, but Katou was already lifting the cloths to her chest wraps, bringing them together and tying them, indicating that the conversation was at an end. Bowing again, the woman slid the door shut and departed to find servants, leaving Katou alone in the room and to the sound of the floor creaking outside. Katou listened to her rough step, drawing her robes back up over her shoulder and securing them.

Questions, questions, and more questions abounded in her mind as she smoothed out her clothes, but as yet there were no concrete answers for her. Nothing about the shikami in the archives suggested an affinity for the Halls of Grass or even the Lord's castle. The only thing that left her assured of peace in her mind, at least until the harvest moon rose, was that the spirit remained without hostility towards the castle's occupants.

 _The harvest moon and the Fox Hunt…_ she thought, making her way downstairs. _If the spirit isn't under control on that day…_

She paused, pressing her lips together in memory before taking a deep breath.

 _Well, in the end, I'll fix everything that was broken and lost. It wouldn't do for me to abandon a task I took on, but if I fail, it won't matter._

She would do her duty to the utmost of her ability. Karma would collect a reckoning from her otherwise if she didn't live up to her word. _A job once started, you must finish,_ her father had told her once upon a time in a life that lay far off now, and she aimed to adhere to that, knowing full well the consequences of failing her word when given. Hearing the sudden thumping of hurrying feet, her eyes fell upon a young, teenage girl with short, closely cropped hair, holding up the dress of her robe and half-running down the hall, eyes wide.

 _"Sora! Sora! Outside!"_

Katou lifted an eyebrow at the panicked tone in the girl's voice, and she heard the earth-haired girl's voice from around the corner, broken occasionally by the girl's hushed, faint whisperings to her.

"What…? _Again?!_ I see. Very well. Find your mother. I'll see to things."

The earth-haired woman, Sora Katou now knew her name to be, came into view, feet thudding loudly as she moved quickly toward the stairs.

"Is something the matter?" Katou asked. Sora gave her a smile that didn't fool her in the least.

"I'm afraid that you should go back to the guest room. It's probably nothing, but just to be on the safe side it would be in your best interest."

Not even waiting to see if Katou would do as suggested, she swiftly made her way down the stairs and toward the door below. Curious, she approached the stairwell to see what was going on. Now she could hear harsh, angry voices from outside. A number of them. Katou knew the tone – and the situation – instantly, and her hackles began to rise in response.

 _"…demons!"_ came a loud cry as Katou began to descend after Sora. _"Makers of false idols! You have_ no _place in Shiju-Iito!"_

"Please leave," Sora said at the door, sounding calm. She was framed by torchlight. It seemed that her suspicions were accurate. Though small, a mob was gathered, and for some reason were dead set on this place becoming a site of violence and murder. Drawing closer, Katou leaned forward, blue light flickering at her fingertips as she took in the scene. She counted at least a half-dozen people at the door, men and women both, though there were likely more outside of her view. At the very least, it appeared to be a small group, something that was a relief to her. She knew the wrath of an entire village before. She did not want a repeat performance of that tragic play.

She reflexively sniffed the air, half-expecting the stench of burning flesh.

 _Nothing. Yet._

 _"You_ leave!" snarled an old, balding man waving a torch in front of Sora's face threateningly. The woman did not so much as flinch before the heat, instead keeping her eyes focused on the crowd. "You…makers of Shikami! Abominations! You go against the order established by the Heavens! In the name of the ancient gods most high, we _refuse_ to let you remain here unchallenged while you practice your foul works!"

"We have the shelter of the Emperor, may he remain eternal," Sora replied. "He is the _will_ of Heaven made flesh. He has given us leave to be in this city. Do you dare stand against him?"

"There is no Emperor!" scorned another man. "Only the Lord-General and his spears!"

"Why are we talking to this southerner bitch?!" shot out another man, starting forward, a club in hand and raised. "Kill them! Kill these worshippers of darkness!"

Sora raised her arm defensively at the club as it swung down toward her head, and Katou stiffened at the loud _crack_ thatfilled the air. Blue fire flared around her hands, her whole body going rigid, yet all at once a loud hush filled the air, the mob going dead-silent. The business end of the club hung limply from a single, thin piece of cracked wood, Sora's arm holding steady beneath it and showing no sign of having budged at all. The man stared at her dumbly as she turned, and, with a polite smile, took hold of the ruined weapon and gently removed it from his numb grasp.

Her next action was considerably less gentle.

Moving almost too swiftly for Katou's eyes to follow, she swung her hand out in a wide arc, and her open palm connected loudly with the man who had attacked her. Blood sprayed like a fountain and he fell back with a horrified cry onto the ground, clutching at his face. Dropping the club like refuse, Sora stepped out into the night before the small crowd and moonlight washed over her. Warm skin and earth-hair chilled by the silver light gave way to grey, smoothly polished stone, gleaming in the darkness, covered only by the bright red robe wrapped about her body.

"The guards will be here soon," she announced to them, her tone still polite in spite of her shining, rock-hard hand dripping blood onto the ground. "If you insist on trying to harm those who dwell within, I'm afraid they will be unable to protect you."

"M-Monster…" the bearded man rasped, staggering backwards as the fallen man's companions helped him up. Katou dismissed her flames. The fight was out of them now. They had neither the ability or the means to affect any damage to the shikami and they knew it. With nothing more than curses on their lips, they took their friend and beat a hasty retreat. Katou watched them go for a moment longer before the shikami turned and stepped back into the shop, moonlight sliding off her, returning her to her earlier, warm appearance. Empty, stone eyes, gone in place of the illusion of brown-irises fell upon Katou, and she smiled apologetically.

"I apologize for the distraction, My Lady" she said, giving her a polite bow. "I will see to it that the records and food are sent to you at the castle."

"Do not worry," Katou nodded, giving her a bow in return. "May I inquire what that was all about?"

"I…" Sora looked uncertain for a moment before continuing. "They belong to the Order of the Golden Temple. We have been having some…difficulties with them recently since their temple was rebuilt. I am uncertain as to why they have been giving the family such trouble lately as there has been no animosity between them before. I do my best to protect them though, as little as it may be."

"Your service and loyalty is to be commended. The Wong family I am sure are both honored and blessed by your presence."

The shikami blushed at that, seeming to fidget, but she took the compliment as intended before noticing the bloodstain on her hand.

"Ah! I-I'm sorry! I…I must wash…"

"Do as you must." Katou held up a hand to keep her from leaving straightaway. "But I would like directions to the Golden Temple if you don't mind."

 **###**

The crowd of devotees to the Golden Temple helped their companion up the steps to their church as he clutched at his tilted face, softly moaning around a mouthful of broken teeth.

"Someone tell him to be quiet," growled the bearded man, looking over his shoulder at the pitiful sight with a dark, angry fire blazing in his eyes. "It won't do him any good to be sobbing like a baby in front of the Ser Yohai when we see him."

"But…he's _hurt!"_ snapped a dark-haired woman as the injured man tried to stifle his groans in response to other man's harsh condemnation. "Dan Shoto, show some respect for his sacrifice! The Ser Yohai will have evidence now…"

The bearded man identified as Shoto waved her off dismissively. "It will do him some good to have a rod in his spine when he appears before the Ser Yohai. He'll be more sympathetic for his plight then. After all, righteous men shed no tears for their pain, but wear them as badges of honor gained in service to the gods. Gods from on high, I cannot _believe_ why those shikami makers… Those _pretenders…_ are tolerated here. The Ser Yohai should have moved against them as soon as…"

 _"As soon as what?"_

Shoto's foot paused at the top of the stairs and he spun about at the echoing voice. "Who…?" he began, quickly scanning his compatriots who were all doing likewise before zeroing in on the figure standing at the foot of the stairs below. A young, brown-haired woman with pale skin wearing a gleaming necklace. He frowned. Something about her jarred his memory, but he couldn't for the life of him remember having seen her before.

"Do you require aid?" he asked, brushing past his companions to get a better look at the woman. Her eyes followed him, seeming without emotion. With the moon at her back, her shadow stretched along the stairs. "While it's late, our doors are always open to aid…"

He grunted suddenly as his foot touched on her shadow, and he froze in place. His eyes bulged wide in their sockets and his chest twitched, attempting to breathe…and failed.

"You were at the Wong business earlier," the woman said, her tone flat and academic. "All of you. You threatened the occupants and one of your number was injured. Don't deny it. I was there."

Four shadows slinked out from behind her, dagger-like, yet waving like flames. Snaking out, they surrounded the devotees. A pillar of blue fire lit up from each shadow, boxing them in and casting an eerie azure light about them.

"W-Who…?" stammered out one of the faithful, looking at the blazing pillars fearfully. His hand rose to his chest, where a medallion containing a golden bird lay, clutching at it as though it would protect him.

"A servant of a _true_ god," Katou replied, "and not your falsehood. I am its storm. It's lightning and its cast shadow. _You_ will _not_ disturb that family again if you value your souls."

Shoto was making choking noises now, throbbing veins standing prominently on his forehead at his struggles to draw in air. Katou began to ascend the steps, and her sunset eyes took on a hellfire glow in the light of her burning pillars.

"I will not accept _no_ for an answer, and if I so much as _hear_ of another assault on that family's home or any who serve them, you will get to meet my god far more swiftly than you would like." A shadow of a tail flicked out from behind her. "I trust that I have made myself clear." Her burning eyes flickered over the horror-filled gazes of the devotees and at the temple behind them, taking in the sun-logo shining in the moonlight. "It is a very beautiful temple you have built here. It would be a shame if it were ruined before its time."

With that, Shoto collapsed to the ground, gasping loudly as his body suddenly found itself able to draw in breath once more. His lungs drank greedily in loud, billowing wheezes. The blue fires winked out of existence and the shadows retracted, their business concluded. With that, Katou turned and headed off, the Golden Temple and its followers no longer of interest to her.


	8. Chapter 8

The Veiled Lotus

By: Crazyeight

Chapter: 08/Shadow Spell

The wagon rocked as the caravan made its way along at a pace that felt to Rika as though it were a crawl. She wasn't alone, though at present she wished that she were, or if failing that, at least had joined her grandmother in the cramped carriage or her fiancé with whatever he was out and about for. Instead, she sat in the wagon with her mother, the woman making endless fussing noises and shifting impatiently. A bad sign. The entire trip had been one of tension between them, though as a river dammed up by the presence of others, be it Henry or Seiko or the various guards. Neither were here now however, and since the incident with the tree, Rumiko had been increasingly aggravated and restless, her eyes flickering around and about, seeming to search for a flaw in her surroundings or something that would catch her attention.

During such times, the best Rika could hope for was to keep her head low, wrap herself in silence and hope that her mother's storm would simply blow over. She lacked in hope that this would happen, but she clung to it all the same. Staring at her kosube results, one hand black and the other stained red, both rolling a game stamp coated with ink between her fingers, her dark-eyes narrowed in thought. Distantly, she heard her mother shift again, and then a shadow fell over her tablet.

 _So much for hope…_

"What have I told you about wearing your gloves when you play your game?"

The icy tone was not lost on Rika, yet she replied all the same, "You're blocking my light."

It was the wrong response. She knew it, but having been in such close proximity to her mother's grating personality for so long, she was tired of the pretense they've been keeping up to this point.

 _I can't stand another four days with her,_ she thought as Rumiko gave a disgusted sound. Leaning forward, the woman ripped the tablet out of her hand. _That_ finally broke her fully out of her concentration and Rika made to snatch it back, only to miss as Rumiko danced back a pace, holding the tablet high and out of reach.

 _"Hey!"_

"Don't you 'hey' me, little Hell Hair!" Rumiko replied with a triumphant, smug smirk on her lips at finally getting a reaction out of her daughter. "I've indulged your interest in this little game of yours because it kept you quiet on this trip, but I can see now that it's making you ignore your duties."

 _"What_ duties?" Rika snarled, clenching her fists tightly. "We're _done_ with the shrine visits! There's nothing left to do except ride around and camp until we return home!"

"You've been ignoring your fiancé," her mother chided. "Heiress or not, if you're to be his wife, you must learn to wait on him and support him in his work. And his work is important."

"Oh for…" She bit back a string of obscenities, her eyes flickering over to the tablet and her work. "Fine. Whatever ends this quickly. Where is he?"

Rumiko winked. "Something you would know if you did your duty. You'll get this back when I see you with him again."

Rika glared at the other woman, her fingers twitching with desire to lash out before turning and storming to the other side of the wagon, staggering slightly from its unsteady motion. Behind her, she heard her mother's light, triumphant laugh and she seethed angrily at it, but she ignored her, not wanting to waste further time on arguing with her. Slumping down behind the driver, she glared about her, hoping to find something else to focus her attention on that presently _wasn't_ Henry – not yet wanting to surrender to her mother's will. The driver looked over at her questioningly, surprised by her presence.

"Everything all right, My Lady?" he asked, his tone cautious, as all the servants tended to be around her. Rika scowled at that, adding one more thing to the list about this journey that irritated her.

"Needed a change of scenery," she grunted, continuing to roll her stamps about in her ink-stained hands. The driver lifted an eyebrow at this before deciding not to pursue the conversation any further, for which she was grateful for. There was very little that she wanted to talk about right now, and even less that she wanted to do to begin 'doing her duty' as her mother wanted, least of all while the caravan was on the move.

 _It should have been Marcus,_ she thought, grating her teeth together in anger before a flicker of movement in the sky caught her attention. Looking up, she spied the dragon from the village high up in the air, coiling and twisting in the air, its flight slow and casual. She had noticed its movements over the last few days, always staying close by to the procession.

 _It's not near the doctor's wagon anymore,_ she realized, tilting her head to one side in thought. _That must mean the baker boy must be up and about. I bet Henry's with him._

She sighed mentally over her fiancé's interest with their newest servant. Although business related, the mystery surrounding him had lost much of its luster, being just a previously unknown talent squirreled away in a backwater village, rather than a message from the gods, and who now caused his absence from her side, which in turn gave her grief from her mother.

 _Annoying…_ she thought, curling her hands together into tight balls. However, like herself, he had his own duty to attend to and he couldn't pass up the opportunity that lay before him. It wouldn't be prudent to simply ignore it. Undoubtedly, he would train him as some kind of apprentice in order to make full use of his skills; perhaps even have him marry one of his sisters to keep his abilities tied to his house and bloodline. Fresh blood was important to inject into a clan every so often, and within a few generations, if the baker son proved to be everything Henry hoped for, the upper crust of the imperial court would overlook the lowly origins of his potential descendants, increasing Wong family's potential influence and reach in the future.

 _How queer fate is,_ she mused. _If it had been my brother chosen to be the heir, it would be him and one of Henry's sisters taking this journey alongside my mother and grandmother. And then, where would this boy be? Still a slave? Or missing a hand? Or would he be dead?_

One decision from her that now felt so long ago – the one that had changed her hair from dark to its current, vibrant red – had impacted so many threads it seemed. She paused on that thought, and she rolled her stamps about in her hands once more, considering it. Now that she thought about it, there were some things she could do, if only to pass the time, and to give her mother a reason to not bother her about whether or not she was 'doing her duty.'

Deciding that this thread was more interesting to see unravel, she slid down off the wagon's coach, ignoring the surprise of the driver, and dropped down into the road. She winced at the rough landing, but quickly righted herself. Testing her balance for any potential injuries, she found none.

"All right," she nodded to herself. "Let's solve this puzzle."

 **###**

Takato bit his lower lip. His feet groaned. His back and shoulders burned. His ears too, and all for different reasons.

"…so I was thrown out by the guy, naked as the day I was born," said Kazu to the guard next to them, a wide grin plastered on his face. "And as if that wasn't bad enough, he was sporting an erection _thiiis_ long." Raising his hands, he spread them out, articulating the girth he was describing, far beyond any mortal man's ability to achieve without divine intervention. "Seriously. This wasn't just any old log. It was like he was packing a full grown _tree_ or something between his legs. And this drunkard is across the street and when he sees us he immediately starts shouting, "Cock fight! Cock fight!" And he's laughing like a loon the whole while."

The burning in Takato's ear quickly spread down to his face while the guard simply stared at Kazu impassively, looking not in the least bit impressed by his tall tale.

"Unbelievable. Do you _seriously_ mean to tell me that you took part in such…such a travesty with an Ogre-bastard?"

"Well, I had been hearing about the rumors of the guy, so I _was_ a little curious…"

"Beastly," the guard shook his head, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"You had to have known him," Kazu chuckled, folding his arms behind his head. "Anyway, you don't have to believe me or not. I mean, I _might_ have exaggerated in places, but he really did throw me out naked. Can't blame him really. No one likes being made a fool of, but really. Is it my fault that he sucks at dice?"

"Unbelievable…"

"You haven't known Kazu for very long, have you?" Takato asked, his voice a harsh whisper as a bead of sweat crawled down his face.

"You believe him?"

"Of course, he does!" laughed Kazu, reaching out and pinching Takato's cheek playfully. "We grew up together after all. There's _nothing_ I wouldn't do!"

"He even tried with a ghost that haunted a bridge on a river to the south of our home," Takato rasped, disentangling himself from his friend and shrugging the pack of wood – remnants of the hacked up, murderous tree from nights before – further up on his shoulders, hoping to find a more comfortable spot for it that would soothe his aches. No such luck and he grimaced as pain shot up through his shoulder and stabbed deep into his neck. "For years she wouldn't let him cross it. We all made offerings, but she stayed mad."

"Good gods…" the guard breathed, shaking his head.

"I don't know why you're surprised. I've traveled with you all these weeks. You know I've built up quite the reputation."

"You never could…go…anywhere…"

Kazu looked at Takato with a concerned expression and raised a hand for the trio to halt. Takato managed a couple more feet however before Kazu grabbed hold of his pack and dragged him back.

"Hey!"

"Break time, pal," Kazu said. "I told you to let me know when you started getting tired. You're not used to this kind of thing yet."

"I'll…get used to it! Don't worry about me!"

"With the good Lady's favor wrapped around your neck, he has to," the guard said, earning him a sharp snort from Kazu.

"As if I need _her_ to make me feel worried about this guy." With both hands now, he began to tug the pack off. "Come on. Give it up. Don't make me have to punch you out."

"Hey now…" began the guard with a warning hand going toward his sword hilt.

"Knock it off, Davis," Kazu waved him off. "It's not like I meant it."

"You didn't?" Takato asked, pulling away and adjusting the pack. "Could have fooled me."

"What I did as a kid is different from now. I've got a job to do."

Davis snorted, obviously sharing Takato's sentiments.

"Fine," Kazu shrugged. "Don't believe me. See if I care. Now give me the damn pack."

"I _said_ I can _handle…"_

"Is there something the matter?"

All conversation ceased at Rika's voice, and eyes turned to face the fire-haired girl as she approached, Kazu's expression quickly becoming one of disgust. Rika simply ignored him, her eyes flickering between the guard and Takato, expecting an answer.

"Well?" she prompted with a touch of impatience in her voice, and at once, Davis bowed.

"There's a bit of disagreement about your servant's workload," he hastily explained before giving his charges an admonishing look for their lack of obeisance for their better. Takato blinked, seeming to remember himself, and bowed clumsily, only to grunt in surprise as a piece of wood slipped free and rolled off his shoulder, hitting the ground with a light thud. Kazu, however, remained unbent.

Rika continued to ignore him however, instead keeping her eyes on Takato, gauging him as she watched the embarrassed blush rise up in Takato's cheeks, bringing him in fierce competition with her hair for the color red. She pressed her lips together in mild annoyance while he fumbled for the chunk of wood that had fallen by his feet.

 _Henry, you really know how to pick them, don't you?_

"Well…" she resumed stiffly. "Don't let me stop you." She crossed her arms together. "Disagree away."

"Why? Do you get off on it?" Kazu asked abruptly with a smirk, causing Takato to choke on air while Davis looked at him in horror. Rika's eyes narrowed to a razor's edge as a blush of her own rose on her face, and the guard, upon seeing it, immediately clasped at the hilt of his short sword. There was a rasp on the air and the there came a gleam of steel in the daylight. Takato's mouth became a large _O_ as his eyes grew wide at the sight.

"Shioda!" Davis exclaimed, his voice quavering a little. "That was _most_ inappropriate! Apologize _now!"_

"What for?" Kazu asked 'innocently.' "It was just a simple joke. I'm sure Our Lady has no problem figuring out that it's harmless, right?"

"Kazu…" began Takato, looking back and forth between the guard's sword and Rika with growing anxiety, his sunset eyes pleading with everyone for things not to go any further than this. Rika schooled her face to stillness in spite of the crimson in her skin growing in intensity.

 _I am seriously regretting even bothering to come out here…_

"Shioda…" she began, her tone hard. "You agreed that topic was to be buried as part of your continued employment…as well as not losing an ear."

 _"Losing an ear?!"_ Takato gaped at his companion. "Kazu…"

"It's buried." Kazu folded his arms together, grinning. "Buried and forgotten. You're the one who brought it up, and you can stop it at any time."

"Whether it's forgotten or not, you should _still_ apologize," Davis cut in, grabbing hold of him by the shirt, sword waving threateningly in front of him.

"Hey!" Kazu exclaimed. "Let go! I'm not apologizing over something stupid! Now watch where you point that…"

 _"Apologize!"_

"Stop it!" Takato burst out suddenly, hands starting to rise to intervene. "Come on! We don't have to…"

There was a sudden snarl and a rush of air, and in the next moment, the serpentine form of the dragon crashed into Davis, fangs bared with a flicker of fire around its jaws. There came a series of startled cries as horses reared up in panic at the sight of the beast with its tail whipping about, and porters diving for cover, calling for guards. The sound of rushing feet and an unsheathing of swords didn't take long to respond to the calls for aid. The caravan's guards knew their duty.

 _"Get off him!"_ Takato shouted as they came into view, and unthinkingly he threw himself at the dragon. Seeing his motion however, it snaked out of his path, allowing him to sail harmlessly by and crash to the ground with a pained gasp, the weight of the wood on his back crushing the breath from his lungs. The beast tilted its head to one side, gold eyes looking at him questioningly before rising back into the air and darting toward the blue heavens. It didn't vanish however, remaining within eye-reach.

Rika turned toward the oncoming rush of guards and held up a hand for them to stop. They did, though not without more than a little confusion etching on their faces. One did not normally pull the reigns on a response to a dragon dropping out of the sky and attacking one of their own after all.

 _Especially not so soon after the incident with the tree,_ Rika thought before tilting her head questioningly at herself, her mind working to solve a sudden, new puzzle. Before she could pursue that route, the presence of the guards demanded her attention, and she filed her thoughts away for later consideration.

"It's all right," she said before turning to Davis. "You _are_ all right, aren't you?"

Kazu was helping Davis to his feet. He appeared rather bewildered with his helmet sitting lopsided on his head, but otherwise he appeared to be none the worse for wear.

"Y-Yes…" he stammered out, righting his helmet. "Ah… Aren't I?" He quickly looked down at himself, as if half-expecting his innards to be hanging out between his legs in thick, bloody ropes. Kazu gave a dry laugh and bopped his helmet.

"He's fine. Just got a little shock from our patron of storms, that's all. Thanks for asking."

"Hm." Rika turned her attention back toward Takato, who was struggling back to his feet, his pack of wood making his balance precarious. All thoughts of the guards and Kazu vanished from her mind. Her lips set, she approached him, holding out one of her stamps, its angular surface glinting in the light of the sun.

"Here," she said to him, only for him to cock an eyebrow questioningly at her.

"Huh?"

"The stamp. Take it and look at it carefully."

"Um… Okay?" Takato hesitantly did as he was bid, looking over at Kazu and the others gathered around them in confusion. Kazu simply shrugged while the guards, though a bit confused themselves, didn't appear the least bit surprised by her sudden shift in focus. He looked the stamp over, paying close attention to the raised symbols on its surface. They reminded him of the symbols he had seen on the rare visits he had made to the city with his father, but he couldn't make heads or tails of them as to what they were.

"You can't read them, can you?" Rika asked, causing Takato's head to snap up.

"Rea…? Oh! Ah… No. Sorry." He flushed hotly under her piercing gaze, and he held out her stamp as though it were a peace offering. "Not much use for letters back home for me."

"What's it matter if he can't read anyway?" Kazu asked, narrowing his eyes angrily at her. "What is he going to need it for if all he's going to do is…what? Make a few paintings?"

 _"You_ be silent about things you don't know anything about," Rika replied to him sharply, not even so much as looking in his direction as she took back her stamp from Takato. "As for you, where you're going you'll need letters."

"Right. I'm sure they'll open up doors and set him free from his chains," Kazu snorted, and Rika finally turned toward him, her stamps rolling between her fingers until finally coming to a halt on a pair of symbols. With a smirk, she presented them to him.

"What?" Kazu asked, his eyes flickering toward the symbols first and then back up to Rika with a dark suspicion that she was mocking him in some way.

"Showing proof that only an idiot revels in their ignorance," Rika continued to smirk, tucking away her stamps before returning her attention to Takato. "Unfortunately, I didn't bring my _kana_ set with me, so we'll have to make do with what we have. We can still begin with the common _kana_ at least _._ They're easy to memorize, and we'll want you to be able to impress the Wong's upon arrival at Shiju-Iito…"

Takato could only gape at her in bewilderment as she continued to rattle off her lesson plans and their benefits. Learning letters was going to be important? Help him impress the Wong family? Hard to believe since he was her and Henry's slave.

 _Why?_ he wanted to ask her, but the question didn't leave his mouth as he watched her continue on about what she would teach him. He felt a shadow fall on his heart and once more his mind turned towards home. Towards his family. He saw his parents in his memories gathered in the kitchen, working on the bread dough for selling to the other villagers. Winter had been his favorite time of year as the kitchen was warm enough to drive the chill away. He didn't sweat, and the work actually became cozy and comforting.

The shadow grew and he swallowed a painful lump in his throat. His eyes fell on Rika's hands, stained heavily with black and red ink. The warm memories of home vanished the very second he envisioned his own hands coated so thickly.

"I…I can't make bread like that," he found himself saying aloud, much to his surprise. Rika cocked her head at this, confused. Confusion that was shared by Kazu.

"You won't be making bread," she said. "You'll be making…"

"S-Stop it!" Takato exploded in sudden panic, only to blanch as he looked around him, seeing the eyes on him. Kazu's concern; Davis gauging the situation and waiting for Rika's command; Rika's own confusion at the situation. He glanced at her stained hands again and felt his stomach recoil violently. He thought back to his agreement with Henry. It seemed like the only path he could take at the time. The only one that made sense given his predicament, but now… No matter what, he was feeling worse and worse for it. Even if he served Lady Rika or Henry's family or the empire, he could never go home again. Seeing that dragon again and how it attacked Davis had driven that home.

 _Kenta…_ Again, the flicker of memory, almost reaching the light. His stomach heaved and he shifted slightly.

"Maybe you should have taken my hand."

"Whoa!" Kazu exclaimed. "Hey! Takato, what are you…?"

"I can go home if you do that, right?" He looked at Rika in wild desperation, and her dark eyes grew wide in shock. Raising an arm, he thrust it out at her, as if she could take it here and now. "Cut it off then! I can't be here! I can't…"

"Takato!" Kazu yelled, starting toward him, but his voice wasn't what caught his attention.

"Stop it."

Rika's tone was hardened steel as she snatched hold of the frightened youth's wrist, a thin, red light around her, invisible to the eyes of Kazu and Davis, but plainly so to the gifted, such as Takato appeared to be. He jerked back, as if scalded by her touch, but she held firm. In response, a blue light flared up around him – this one visible to the others as Davis jumped back, hand going toward his sword. Rika cursed audibly at this, hearing the sound of boots trumping towards their direction again, and she tightened her hold on Takato. At once, daylight dimmed, and then the sounds about the two fell silent.

"Let…Let me _go!"_ Takato rasped, his voice odd to his ears, as though he were speaking from down a well. Rika narrowed her eyes as his light burned about him, illuminating the darkness with its azure brilliance. He was strong, but far from her level of experience, as evidenced by his aura's erratic behavior; the way it spat and sparked about him. She could hold him all day and not break a sweat.

"Deep breaths first," she told him. "You need to be calm. I'm not releasing you until then, understood?"

Takato's face was beet-red, continuing to strain against her, clearly not listening. His eyes were wide and his aura flared, twisting and coiling violently now, flicking up from behind him. Rika watched it, fascinated a bit before something suddenly clicked in her mind.

"A fox tail…" she murmured in realization, the puzzles finally falling into place. At that, Takato's head snapped up at that, a sheen of sweat starting to appear on his face, and just like that, his aura abruptly vanished, as if attempting to hide now that it had been caught.

"What?" he asked, his voice quavering.

"Solved your mystery," Rika clarified. "The dragon. The aura. You're a vessel, just like me. Interesting. I'm surprised you were picked. You wouldn't be _my_ first choice though, but foxes are strange creatures." She gave a like giggle at that, but Takato could only look angry.

"Will you _please make sense?"_ he demanded between gasps, his body suddenly feeling wasted with exhaustion. Regardless, he tugged against her and his aura returned, but only as a thin tremor along his skin.

"Hm?" Rika grinned now, her hold on him tightening. "Now where's the fun in that? Do you realize what you are?"

"Fu… What are you…?" His aura sparked again at that, spitting out blue flame, but it sailed past the girl harmlessly. "I'm _not_ a game!"

His roar washed over her as she looked at him more closely now, but she was not in the least bit disturbed by it. "Sunset eyes… I thought you were a suyun at first, but is that what changed about you? Like my hair did with me?"

Takato growled, reaching the end of his patience. He yanked harder, but her grip on him still didn't budge an inch. All he got were her dark eyes, light captured within their depths dancing eagerly as she grabbed hold of his face and pulled him in for a closer inspection. He felt like the bugs he and Kenta used to pick up and look at down by the river, their tiny legs aimlessly squirming in an attempt to escape. He had to get away from this crazy girl! He…

 _"Ow!"_

Takato's eyes went wide in startlement as Rika jumped back suddenly. The light about them grew slightly, and they turned to find the dragon sharing their space. For the first time, Takato took note of how dark things were, and how the people around them appeared…frozen. Not so for the dragon however, as it snorted fire at the young Lady's leg. Just a thin warning stream.

Rika didn't take to it that well and started stalking toward the beast, her aura growing in intensity, but no sooner did she do so daylight returned, and the dragon vanished along with it, leaving Rika to blink in surprise at its unexpected absence before taking note of the crowd of guards gathered around them, Ichigo fast approaching on his horse alongside Henry, sword drawn, eyes scowling in search of a threat and, seemingly, finding none.

"What's going on here?" he demanded, and at that, Rika composed herself, her expression stilling back to neutrality.

"Just my duty to my fiancé," she replied, nodding at him in turn before falling over to the wagon she had earlier abandoned, finding her mother standing behind the driver, eyes caught between anger and fear – no doubt half expecting another tree to rampage into their lines. "There was some confusion about my servant's duties, but…" She glanced at him, and smirked slightly before the empty void returned. "…that's changing. I am sorry to have disturbed so many from their own tasks. Return to them, if you would be so kind, and I shall return to my kosube materials, so that I will see to it that I will be disturbing you all less than I have so far."

Rumiko looked as though she had been slapped. Rika couldn't help but take a certain level of satisfaction from that, and she turned to Takato.

"Tonight, you will come to my wagon, and I will teach you."

With that, she strolled off to her fiancé, if only to touch base with him briefly before doing anything else. Takato stood there, watching her go, shaking as exhaustion swept over him.

"What…What happened?" he asked quietly, watching the girl go for a moment before looking about. "And where's the dragon?"

"The dragon's still skyward," Kazu replied, one hand taking hold of his arm as his balance tottered slightly. "And I think you _definitely_ need to lose the pack now. Crow, Takato, you look half-dead all of a sudden. What did that witch do to you? She had you for just a second!"

"A second's all she would need," Davis remarked, sheathing his sword with a shake of his head. "The Lady's been touched by the gods. One second might as well be an eternity where she's concerned."

"Gods eyes…" Kazu breathed, his gaze joining Takato's and together they followed Rika's path, a cold chill running through their bones.

8


	9. Chapter 9

The Veiled Lotus

By: Crazyeight

Chapter: 09/The Toe of the Foot

There had been more bodies.

Marcus' teeth were pressed against one another tightly at the memory of their discovery yesterday; his hands gripping the reigns so hard that his knuckles were white.

 _A woman… A boy… Two girls…_

Koji had found them, along with all the livestock, by a nearby river stream that, previously had not been on the map. Same condition as the first victim, skinless and dead. A very unpleasant way to go, and unlike the man, they didn't go cleanly by way of suicide.

 _Cairns… We had to leave them in_ cairns! Marcus thought with a touch of venomous anger. He knew there simply hadn't been enough time to return the entire family to the bossom of the earth, but piling rocks over the departed was so barbaric and unclean. He might as well have fled from the scene as though he had committed the brutal acts himself. Animals were certain to get at the remains and feed upon them. He wondered if his father would send for priests to perform a proper burial and last rites.

He wondered how soon it would be before they met the monsters responsible for such atrocities.

"It's certain that the river leads all the way to the Mountain," Thomas said, looking over to their side where the water bubbled and churned. "We'll have a better idea once we clear the forest, but I don't believe it can be doubted now. Its path hasn't diverted from that direction." He frowned slightly. "A strange, north-westerly flow."

"Does that matter?" Marcus asked, an edge to his voice. Thomas looked upon him coolly, his expression thoughtful.

"I suppose it doesn't," he replied. "But it is curious. The direction isn't downhill. It's not following a typical path for water."

"Up hill or down, we still follow it if it leads to the Mountain." Marcus reached down and rubbed the pommel of his sword. "And there, payment shall be made for the lives lost."

"It's still another four hours until we reach the mountain foot." Thomas took a look at the map, his brow dark with thought. "I believe it comes from the side containing the Emperor's tomb. If that's the case…"

 _"Hai! Hai!"_

Both men brought their mounts to a dead halt, looking about for the source of the sudden cry. Takuya had wandered some distance with Koji by his side and was presently flagging them down. Turning their horses around, they made their way over to the pair.

"Thought you might want a look-see at this," Koji said with a nod, indicating the river. Frowning, Marcus and Thomas both stepped closer, and a second later Thomas bit back a curse. The water, which earlier had been clear as crystal, shining even in the grey skies of the Mountains smoke, was now a slick, solid black, reflecting nothing.

What was more, the darkness stopped only a man-sized distance away, where it ran clear. No matter how much the water churned and bubbled, the blackness did not break or flow away. It simply _was._

 _Explains why we didn't see it earlier,_ Marcus thought, not liking what that suggested to his mind.

"What… _is_ this?" Thomas asked, climbing down from his horse. "Does anyone have an empty waterskin?"

"Here, sir," Junpei said, handing out one. "It's as near to empty as it's going to be. Might as well take it."

"Has anyone noticed anything else about this water?" Thomas asked, nodding his thanks to the man before looking about carefully. Finding a stone, he dug it up from the ground, hefting it before tossing it into the river. It struck the black substance with a thick _plunk_ before vanishing from view. Not a single ripple emanated from its point of impact.

"That's unnatural," Takuya breathed, sliding an arm over his mouth. "I must admit, I'm liking this less and less as we close in on that cursed mountain."

"Afraid?" Koji smirked, to which Takuya glared at him.

"Not at all! But…even _you_ must admit, that water's cursed."

"Cursed or not, we may need a sample," Thomas said, kneeling down. Adjusting his glove, he opened his waterskin and slipped it into the black water. It ballooned sickeningly, and even through the glove, he felt as though he wanted to let it go; like all the meat on his bones ached to crawl off and make a run for the hills. Even the acrid taste of the air, still containing the aftermath of the Mountain's violence, was far preferable to this. Not bothering to fill it up all the way, he withdrew his hand, shaking both glove and waterskin. The black liquid clung stubbornly to each.

"I'll need a bag to put this in so it doesn't get mixed up with the rest," Thomas said distastefully, holding the waterskin in disgust with the tips of his fingers. Again, Junpei provided one, and they quickly tied it off. Taking hold of the unstained portion of his glove, Thomas tossed it aside, and felt vastly cleaner for it.

"Finished?" Marcus asked, a note of impatience in his voice. Making sure that the bag was properly knotted closed, Thomas stowed it with his gear and nodded.

"Yes, My Lord."

"Any idea what could have caused this?" Junpei asked once Thomas mounted back up. "That's no ogre work, that's for sure."

"It doesn't matter what caused it," Marcus grated, pressing his knees into his horse's sides so that they could be off again. "We only need to stop it."

"Should we send a message to Lord Spencer?" Thomas asked. Marcus growled impatiently under his breath, and in response gave his horse just enough of a kick to send it hurrying off at a rapid pace. There was a brief exchange of looks between the group before they followed after the young lord.

Behind them, unnoticed, rose a shadow from the river's darkness, human-shaped. Its eyeless head followed them briefly before collapsing back into the water once more.

 **###**

The first of the village roofs greeted Taichi and Mimi in the grey light of the morning. Though the air had an unwholesome taste to it, their stomachs both growled at the thought of a potential meal. Tightening her robe, Mimi shot Taichi a meaningful look, but the swordsman either didn't notice (something she highly doubted) or ignored her (something she believed more readily). The oddities seen on the road flitted through her mind, but rather than dwell on them, she picked up her pace, moving ahead of Taichi swiftly.

"Bad idea," he said to her. Mimi stuck her tongue out at him.

"I'm hungry and I'm tired of being hungry and I won't let a flock of creepy birds keep me from filling my belly. If any of them bother me, I'll knife them!"

As if to show her determination, her knife swept out into the open air, and she made a low, but angry _yowl_ at the air, threatening invisible, imaginary enemies that barred her from the hope of meals. Taichi shook his head, but didn't stop her.

"Fine, but I'm not rescuing you if you trip and fall down a well or something. You'll have to climb your own way out."

Again, Mimi stuck her tongue out at him, but she slowed her pace just enough for him to keep pace with her. Soon enough, the rest of the village came into view, its walls – little more than long stakes stabbed into the ground and lashed together – towering high, but hiding nothing. Taichi considered this barrier for a moment before shrugging. Bandits weren't altogether outside the realm of possibility, though a bit scarce nowadays in lands this close to Shiju-Iito. The Lord Spencer had slashed a state of order for this corner of the empire and built it on the bones of bandits. These days, if they weren't in the south avoiding the spears of lords and emperors, they were east, preying on the remnants of Suyun.

 _Of course, there are also predators of the woodland variety to consider,_ he thought idly. Mimi came to a stop in front of the main gate and, grabbing hold of the bars, shook them roughly.

"Hey!" she called out loudly. "There are two travelers out here! We'd like to barter for food and a roof!"

"I don't think they quite heard you from the capital," Taichi grunted, digging a finger around in one ear. Mimi puffed her cheeks out irritably. Slipping her hands in through the bars, she found the bar that kept her out. She grunted, and after several, long moments, slipped it free, whereupon it fell to the ground with a dull thud. The gate swung open, and Taichi changed his mind about the purpose of the walls.

 _Woodland predators for certain,_ he thought while Mimi marched right on in.

"Strange that the door is locked at all at this time of the day," she noted. "You'd think the peasants would have left it open while they're out in the fields."

Taichi nodded, following after her. A chill worked its way across his skin upon entering. While a few chimneys had thin wisps of smoke rising from them, the absence of activity was immediately noticeable.

"Huh." Mimi planted her hands on her hips, looking about her. "This place is a graveyard. Where is everyone?"

Taichi's hand went down to his sword hilt, the chill he felt growing. He saw nothing, and yet…

"Stay close to me," he said, taking a look about them. He felt eyes on them now, and the silence of the outdoors grew even heavier. Mimi looked at him, catching the tone in his voice, and she drew her long knife once more, while Taichi loosened his sword in its sheath. He considered leaving, but the wilderness, with its stillness and staring, unnervingly quiet birds coupled with their lack of supplies didn't sit any better than exploring the village.

He left the gate open however, in case they needed to flee.

Approaching the nearest hut with smoke coming from its chimney, he drew his sword and took a peak through one of its windows. The interior had a cozy, lived-in appearance where its hearth, unattended, still lived with a smoldering coal or two. A bit odd, all things considered, but otherwise the place looked empty. Taking hold of the door, he slid it open and stepped inside. The silence from outside closed in about him, becoming heavier, but not in a threatening manner. Rumpled blankets, tools and various food stuffs greeted him. Nothing more.

Yet the sense of eyes still following him, tracking his movements, weighed on his mind.

 _The birds?_

"No one here?" Mimi asked shakily, holding her long knife closely to her. Taichi nodded.

"No one _here,_ anyway," he said, frowning darkly, his mind turning things over. "Let's look around a bit more. There's still a whole village after all. We might just be letting our imaginations get away from us."

Licking her lips, Mimi's head bobbed up and down in agreement. They hadn't been here for very long, and the incident with the birds and the fox left them both a bit on the jumpy side, especially fatigued as they were with hunger. Darting outside, she cupped one hand around her mouth.

 _"Hellooo! Hellooo! Please, is_ anyone _here?! Answer, please!"_

Taichi sighed again, following after her.

"You know, if there are bandits here, you may have just killed us both. Please don't bring me down with your stupidity."

"Yeah, well, I'm saving time," Mimi pouted, adjusting her grip on her knife, her hands sweating a little. "I hate all this waiting."

They resumed their explorations, Mimi calling out every so often in the hopes of getting a response, but hut after hut revealed the same scene. Empty, yet lived in, and all fairly recently within what appeared to be yesterday, if the smoldering fires were anything to go by. It was as though whatever happened, the people had been taken unawares.

 _Too many… Far too many huts empty for it to be just peasants working the field,_ Taichi thought, sweeping his eyes about in the hopes of finding some kind of clue as to what happened, or at least a sign that life still existed beyond its leavings. And that feeling of being _watched…_

Approaching a hut, he placed his hand on the door and began to slide it open. His warrior's instincts suddenly screaming were the only warning he got before a pitchfork lunged at him from the darkness, a panicked, cornered howl from a grizzled, dark-haired man, eliciting a scream of surprise from Mimi behind him. Taichi deftly dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding being skewered on the pitchfork, but not so swift that his shirt didn't get caught in sharp iron teeth, almost ripping it open. Grabbing hold of its shaft, Taichi pivoted and the pitchfork's owner came tumbling out with a surprised squawk and slamming to the ground. Taichi's sword glinted in the sun as it swung toward the peasant just as he rolled over.

 _"Don't move!"_ he ordered, the point of his blade coming to a dead halt in front of the man's eyes, and his hands went up, signaling surrender. Without taking his eyes off him, Taichi tugged the pitchfork free from his shirt and dropped it to the ground with a clatter.

"Please…" the man begged, tears shining in his eyes. "P-Please… Don't kill me."

 **###**

"Are you _sure_ you're all right?" Mimi asked, poking at the fire while Taichi inspected his side, the sides of his robe lying at his sides next to a recently emptied bowl of food. They were inside the man's hut now, the door barred. Poking his fingers through the holes in his shirt, Taichi nodded and drew it back up, tying off his sash.

"My pride is hurting," he replied, climbing to his feet. All things considered though, he considered that a fair trade to dying on the ground.

 _Lessons to learn from,_ he thought, remembering all the times his teacher had put him on the ground for not paying attention to his senses properly. Mimi's lips became a tight line on her face, her eyes still glued to his side where the pitchfork had been, half expecting injuries to magically appear where none had been, and that they had both been hallucinating his wellness. Easy enough to imagine, Taichi felt, given the state of the village and the words of its apparent only survivor.

Seemingly summoned by such thoughts, there came a knock on the door. Taichi quickly looked out the windows, finding no one save the lone man – Daigo Nishijama – back from barring the gate to the village, and, after loosening his sword once more, unbarred the door and let the man in. He scuttled inside hurriedly, taking the door and slamming it shut behind him. Swiftly locking the door again, he slumped down in front of the hearth, his breath coming out in harsh gasps.

"I didn't see anything else outside," he said. "We may be safe."

"So you said," Taichi said, remaining standing behind the man, his gaze flickering back and forth between him and the windows. The sense of eyes on him lessened considerably now, but remained.

"Safe from what though?" Mimi asked, taking the battered teakettle away from the small fire and pouring its contents into an equally battered, chipped cup. Steam rose into the air, and she dipped the kettle back and set it aside. "From the birds?"

"Birds?" Daigo asked, cocking an eyebrow. Taichi took note of the half-crazed glint in his eyes, but there was honest curiosity buried within.

Taking up the cup, she blew along its surface before passing it to Daigo. He accepted it gratefully and took a sip with shaky hands.

"You didn't notice?" Taichi asked, circling to the other side of the room and taking a look out through the window. "Not a one of them is chirping around this area. Many of them followed after us as well."

"I…I don't know anything about that," Daigo shuddered, lowering the cup. "I just know that…out there…in the fields…" Clenching his teeth, he clutched at himself, tremors wracking his body for one long moment. Mimi reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Neither of them pressed him and simply waited. Once the tremors passed, Daigo took another sip, deeper this time, and gasped at the heat.

"In the fields…" he rasped, wiping at his mouth. "That's where the others are. I only escaped their fate because I was sick. But they…they didn't." Pain crossed his features and his hand reached down toward his side, feeling for something that wasn't there. Taichi made a note of that.

"How long ago did this happen?"

"Ah… Three… Four days, I think? It was after the earth shook, I know that."

"Are your people dead?" he asked.

Daigo looked up at him, and the half-crazed glint diminished somewhat. It seemed between the tea and talking to them, he was beginning to relax, if only a little.

"I…guess you could say that. I don't know how to explain it."

"Can you try?"

"Amm…" Daigo scrunched his brow up in concentration. Raising his hands, he mimed walking motions with his fingers. "They move, but…like they're lost? Dead, but not dead, I think. At least, not from what I saw." He shuddered again. "Their eyes stare, but don't see. They're like puppets."

Taichi filed the information away for later.

"What direction are your fields?"

"Taichi?" Mimi asked, lifting an eyebrow. "You're not seriously thinking about going out there, are you?"

"It'd be something to do other than staying cooped up in this place," he shrugged. "Will you guide me to them?"

Daigo froze at that, briefly.

"That…is a _bad_ idea, sir."

"So is staying here, I think. This place is a death trap, long term."

"Taichi!" Mimi scolded. "He's been through hell! How could you…"

"This is only the shores of hell, and unless I miss my guess, Daigo's been through much worse."

He met the man's eyes, and he his. After a moment, Daigo turned away. Once more, his hand grasped for something that wasn't there, fingers flexing before relaxing.

"I can show you," he said. "When do you want to leave?"

"Would now be too much to ask for?"

 _"Taichi!"_

"No, now is fine enough." Quickly finishing off his tea, Daigo climbed to his feet. Making his way over to a corner of the room, he pulled away some floorboards and drew out a wrapped cloth. Loosening the bundle, he revealed a sword of shorter length, curved and lesser stature compared to Taichi's, but well-maintained and more than serviceable. Daigo's eyes met Taichi's briefly before he uncurled the sword belt and buckled it on about his waist. For a moment in the warrior's eyes, he looked different. Like he had put on old clothes. His stance changed, and he stood a little straighter. The fear in his eyes remained, but controlled.

"Well, sir. May we go?"

"Me too!" Mimi said, scrambling up.

"I don't recommend…"

"There's no stopping her, trust me," Taichi interrupted. "And to be honest, I'd rather she be nearby anyway than in this place. Shall we go?"

 **###**

Daigo hadn't liked the idea of leaving the village gate unlocked, but there was nothing that could be done about it, and within short order, they were off.

"How did you know?" Daigo asked, making his way along the well-worn path.

"Know what?" Taichi asked.

"Don't joke, sir, please. You didn't look at all surprised by my weapon."

"Oh, that." Taichi shrugged nonchalantly. "Your hand. You kept reaching for a sword. Old habits die about as hard as a soldier."

Daigo barked a sharp laugh at that.

"I was a foot soldier in Lord Spencer's army, I'll give you that. Helped clean out the area of bandits and such." Although he couldn't see him, Taichi could hear the smile in his voice, thinking of the old times. "An injury took me out of the fighting though, and I've been here ever since."

"That's a better story than what I had thought of," Mimi said, seeming to relax from her place next to Taichi. "I had thought that you were one of those who raided from old battlefields or something."

"I've been neighbors with some people who have done that," Daigo acknowledged, at which Taichi frowned, feeling a flash of anger, but he said nothing. "Maybe that's why they're all dead now. Sure, a peasant always needs a little extra money on the side, but what ghost is going to care about that, neh? When you've stolen their soul, they'll find a way to slay you, even if it takes your whole lifetime."

"How many of your neighbors have you known to have done this?" Taichi asked, his tone cool. Daigo scratched the side of his face, not looking at him.

"Oh… I don't know. For all I know, it could very well be all of them. The last big battle was twenty years ago if I remember right, when Lord Spencer took claim of this land. Every now and then someone would find something in the fields and bring it home. Piece of armor. A sword or spear head. I bet the pickings were something else when the battle was fresh." Glancing over his shoulder, he gave Taichi an apologetic look. "Ah, sorry. I don't mean to sound like I'm making light of it. It's just how things were, and peasants need to eat."

"Hm. True." Taichi found himself relaxing his grip around his sword sheath, to which Mimi noticed with a raised eyebrow.

"How much longer until we get to the fields?" Mimi asked.

"Not too much longer. Just over this rise and… Ah!"

Taichi's eyes snapped up at Daigo's exclamation of surprise. Staggering toward them on the path was a group of people, men, women, children; the young and the old, eyes gazing dully ahead of them, their steps awkward, their footing twisting in odd places, as if they were unused to them. What was more, they all looked deathly pale, and for all of them, spots of blood stained their clothing and lined their skin. Yet, they moved with purpose. Daigo was shaking again, his hands rigid with chords standing out on his neck while he made harsh, choking sounds. Hurrying over to him, Taichi clamped a hand on his shoulder, causing the man to jump and cry out, startled. At the sound, heads from within the crowd twisted, turning toward them. Not one eye focused, yet they _saw._ There was something else about them that Taichi couldn't quite see just yet. The way their necks moved; their legs bent. They reminded him of empty bags for some reason, yet he could say why.

"Oh gods…" he heard Mimi begin retching behind him, and at that, the mob began to pick up their pace, shuffling toward them rapidly. Light caught them, and Taichi saw the glint of farming tools, scythes and axes and knives all amidst them. From the expedience of their approach, Taichi had the distinct impression that they meant to use them.

"I think we've seen all that we need to see here," Taichi said, drawing his sword out and giving Daigo a sharp tug, pulling him backwards. "Uphill."

"Uphill?" Daigo staggered, but quickly righted himself. "But…the village…!"

"May not be a safe place for very long if we go there with this group on our tail. They don't move well. Uphill. Now."

Daigo scrambled as ordered, and Mimi was quick to follow after, casting a quick glance over her shoulder as she did so.

"Taichi…!"

"I'm coming!" he shot back, quickly following. As he did so, he snatched up a rock from the earth, knocking off bits of dirt as he did so. He paused, watching as the shambling army slowed, necks craning with an odd, wrinkled, and flat look to them that gave the impression of something being worn, like clothing, before they attempted to follow. Only 'attempt' was an accurate description, as the first line quickly fell forward, causing another to trip on its companion and fall flat on top of them, their scythe accidently carving into their back, rending flesh with frightening ease. Nothing save skin gave it any pause or resistance, and as Taichi watched, a black shadow began to ooze out from the gaping wound. The wounded villager's body deflated, and more of the shadow pooled and took shape, taking on a humanoid figure. It rose up on thin limbs. Crouching low, its face, like its body, devoid of any features, turned up at Taichi and then charged, hands churning up dirt like some kind of mad animal.

The rock flew from Taichi's hand straight and struck true, slamming into the creature's skull and causing it to sprawl on the side of the hill, mewling angrily in bewilderment. It didn't last long however, and within short order it looked back up at Taichi. Although it had no eyes, the creature bled _murder_ in its aura now. It hissed darkly at him and began to rise back up on its hands and feet.

 _Time to go,_ he thought, running skyward after Mimi and Daigo. Behind, he heard the loud, angry bellow of the dark beast behind. It fell on him far, _far_ faster than he had expected. Bereft of the villager's skin, it moved swiftly, and its long limb stretched out and snatched hold of him by the ankle, sending him to the ground. Taichi rolled quickly on instinct, barely hearing Mimi's horrified cry, his sword sweeping out. Its gold blade clove into the beast's skull with sun-fire glimmering along its edges. The creature screamed in pain in response, but it didn't let go of Taichi's ankle. Instead it tightened its grip and a moment later, a loud, cracking noise filled Taichi's ears as sickening, wet pain bloomed along his foot and burst out like a flood along his leg. His mouth gaped in an unspoken scream, his whole body going rigid.

Mimi fell on the beast just then, knife stabbing into its back, but with a simple flick of its arm, it threw her away, and she slammed into a tree, knocking both breath and knife from her. Wrenching Taichi's sword out of its skull, fires licking at its injury and its grasp, it proceeded to clamber over him. Fanged jaws split its empty face open and it descended towards his stomach, intending to rend and tear him open for his attack on its being. Taichi, fighting through the shock of his injury, made one last attempt to fight it off…

An explosion of birds descended on it just then, and the creature howled in rage, rearing up on its legs, attempting to swat them away with its massive forearms. Still, more and more piled onto it, beaks stabbing as their chorus grew ever louder. Rolling over, Taichi began to crawl over towards Mimi, who now coughed violently, her breath returning to her lungs with a vengeance.

A pair of feet, wrapped in a crimson garb that came down just above the ankles, appeared before Taichi, the golden blade of his sword between them. Looking up, he saw a brown-haired woman with brown eyes gazing down at him with an expression of grave worry. Her robe was a portrait of birds and branches.

"Your sword, good knight," she said, lowering its hilt towards his hand. "You must leave this place quickly."

"Who…?"

Taichi blinked, and she was gone, leaving only the sounds of combat behind them and Mimi staggering toward him.

"T-Taichi…" she whispered hoarsely, dropping down by his side. "Oh gods… Your foot…"

"I can't walk," he grated through clenched teeth, not trusting himself to look at his injury and knowing that it must look grizzly. Pain blazed a trail all the way from his leg to his mind. He wanted to faint. Wanted to sleep.

Might as well want to die for all the good sleep would do him right now.

"I'll get you out of here!" Mimi insisted, trying to shrug him onto her shoulder, only to quickly fail. "Gods… Taichi…"

"Sorry I weigh so much." He shook his head, trying to clear it. His head felt stuffed full of wool. The world darkened about him. "Don't know what I've been eating. You'd…" His eyes slid shut briefly, and with an effort, he forced them back open. "You'd…better go." His hands slid over his sword hilt and he pushed it toward her. "Go…"

"Don't you _dare_ say that! Daigo! Daigo where…!"

The world drowned in darkness just then, Mimi's words following him all the way to the bottom.

9


End file.
